♥ ♥ ♥ Sometimes I wonder if you think about me as much as I think about you -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I cannot explain why, but lately I have been thinking about Steve. Even though he caused me a lot of pain, and I do not think he ever cared amount me in the way that I did him, I always reflect on him as one of the lost ones. I saw a picture of him, and all day long I have had it in my head that it would be a good idea to send him a message. Instead of jeopardizing my integrity straight away. I am going to write him a note now. Hi Steve, This message is entirely selfish, I thought I would get that out of the way before I begin. Not so long ago, I pulled my journals out of storage. I sat in my favourite chair with a glass of wine, and settled in for a long night of reading from a time when my stylus of choice was a crayon, through to the person I have become. The point of this is not to bore you with the details of my childhood, I promise. I doubt you knew this, but I diarized everything that happened in my life for years. I wrote about the first time we met during the cruise in Mexico (I thought you were mysterious), and when we met again in Vancouver. In both entries, I made it abundantly clear that you were a person I wanted to get to know. That was a theme in my journal at the time - I was a young woman with clear desires and the confidence to fetch what I wanted. While turning the pages of my journal, I reminisced about memories long forgotten: dancing at the Lotus, work parties, hockey games and getting comfortable on your couch to watch movies with Eddie and Hobbes nearby. A memorable entry was coming downstairs in the morning, hungover, only to meet your mom. I did adore your mom. I wrote of the first times I stayed over and actually slept in your brother's room; though multiple entries after that caused me to blush and take another sip of wine. By now you're wondering about the purpose of my message. Well, I guess my purpose was to say that reading these journals reminded me of the many great times we had, and though years have passed, you still cross my mind. I do not expect a response, but I do hope a few of these memories brought a smile to your face after all this time. One of your traits that I wrote about the most was your drive to succeed and another was your immense creativity. I like to think London is treating you to the life you deserve and that you have accomplished all you ever wanted. **I tried to write a middle paragraph that goes into my self-destructive behaviours and compulsive lying that eventually probably turned him away from me, but its hard to get into. Maybe if I am still thinking about this tomorrow, I will come back to it. 8:01 p.m. - 2012-06-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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