So what does one do with 5...8...13..18...21...25..28. 28 old journals?
Journals that were once filled with your deepest, darkest secrets.
your triumphs and your hopes.
your fears and your defeats.
battles won and battles lost.
Pages of the past.
Hundreds.
Journals that were once filled with what meant the most in your life, what was the most powerful thing in your life at that exact moment in time.
Filled with stories you laughed over. Stories you wept over.
Endless pages that describes in full detail who you are and what you have to offer the world.
A single sheet of regular lined paper, brought to life with the ink of your ambitions.
I was reminded of my constant journaling when I went into my sisters room this evening and looked behind her door and there sat a laundry bin FULL of my old journals. I asked her what they were doing there and she simply said that she saw them downstairs and she likes to read them. Made me think to myself, maybe what I wrote had more meaning then personal contentment.
I miss journaling so much. So much.
I remember when I used to have journal days where I would take all things great that I had collected over those past few months, or even year. Clips of magazines, shopping bags, books, anything that caught my eye really. Quotes and Verses that hit home like a rock every time I read them or that had spoken profoundly into my life.
One of things I remember the most about journaling was the two other girls that I journaled with. It was kind of our thing, what we did, who we were. "Oh! look at this picture; you should keep it for your book!" (They were never called journals, only books) or when we would be riding in the car and think of something, see something, or even hear something on the radio/in a song that sparked our thoughts and we had to jot them down right then and there. Well, I was able to because my book was always in my purse. No matter what, if I had to carry it with my own two hands, I would.
Journaling meant so much to me. maybe I should pick it up again.
Start a new book, venture out on my own and just start.
how liberating it was to just have a place to write. No one would read it, unless requested, it was like one giant secret.
Well well well, what do we have here? a lazy sunday afternoon. man i can't even begin to try and remember when the last time was that I had a whole day to myself.
This was not by choice, let me tell you. I had the full intention of studying all day today with Mr.Mackenzie Fenton, but unfortunately, he is off at the White Caps game #kicksumbutt, so, here I am, alone with my computer, writing nonsense to a blog, waiting for my hair to dry, and contemplating on taking a nap at 5pm. Any takers?
On this Sunday after noon, Ive cleaned and organized a few things, here and there you know?
While going through some boxes, I came across a small metal jewelry box with an image of the eiffel tower on it, I opened it up and inside was a ring, that had been smashed into 3 pieces.
I remember this ring.
This was the ring that I and four other friends bought.
you know the one, you've all done it.
the only thing is, we did this when we were all 18, adults.
thought we meant something to each other and that we were something.
the brat pack, all together, in it forever.
for years we would ride in K's car, blasted music, hair blowing in the wind, screaming out the window...well maybe not that last part, but you get the image, the relationship we all had with each other, how tightly knit everything was and how there was not even a doubt in my mind that someday this dream would come to an end.
It happened, the worst of the worst, one by one we started to grow up.
School
Dating
Moving
Travelling
Work
Marriage
all had a factor in what we thought was forever. All of it.
there was no relationship more significant than the other and no absence that was missed less.
We all knew it was happening, wether we liked it or not, this brat pack was dwindling to a 3 pack..2 pack..alone.
Ive never been able to forgive myself for being the first one to 'throw the towel in'
if I had maybe tried harder, hung out longer, didn't get in that relationship, didn't start school so soon, theres so many things that i could've done differently, that would've affected all of our lives differently.
But I guess, If one leaves, others begin to follow.
Dont you dare think for a second that I don't think about those slurpee runs, those late nights at MrMikes or endless, meaningless driving for hours on end. Dont ever think for a second that Ive forgotten the times that were spent together, the secrets that were shared, the smiles that were exchanged and the laughs that seemed to echo forever.
I miss you; I miss you all.
Theres still a hole in my heart, no matter the time that passes, tears that are shed or serious talks that are had about how good we used to be together.
I still miss it all, and think about it often.
Like the ring itself, It was whole, it was strong, it was bright and shiny, but it broke. with one hit, on one table, it smashed in to pieces, all gone their separate ways.
I miss you.
I love you.
I hope you're all doing well, Maybe we can go for slurpee sometime.
