I was going through one of my journals from 2006 and found this entry from Tuesday, the 18th of July 2006. I *think* I know what it's about, but the more important thing is what it stands for (or stood for I guess, in past tense).
When you find something you wrote years ago, you may find strange solace that the younger version of yourself had gone through the same problems in life.
Or maybe it shouldn't be considered solace at all if you're still making the same mistakes and suffering the same terrible heartbreaks.
::sing-song voice:: "Hello, is anyone in there?"
::coffin creaks open:: "Yes, I've been taking a nap. A long nap." ::yawns::
"What have you been up to in there?"
::still yawning:: "Doing a lot of thinking. Mainly feeling sorry for myself."
"Sorry to hear that."
"Well..." ::stretches arms::
"It's not healthy. To wallow in self-pity, you know."
"But S. does it so well! And he writes so beautifully..."
"S.?!? you haven't seen his photograph lately, have you?"
"He's all...skinny. and pale. Like..."
"Oh no, is he on speed and X again?"
"Could be. You know he's been running around with Robs."
"Oh. Yeah. Forgot that. You know what I was doing the other day? Re-reading those stories I wrote. Like the one about him."
"My dear. That was years ago. But you were really in love with him, weren't you?"
"Maybe you should take up writing again. Might be therapeutic for you."
"I'm one step ahead of you. I just put up a new thingy on that stories page, and more is to come. I need to write...I feel...broken. More broken than usual."
"Then why aren't you writing in your journal, sweetheart?"
"People don't want to read about your sorrow. Besides, I don't WANT to make people unhappy."
"So...while I've been beating myself over you-know-who, I've been crying on the outside and crying on the inside, and sometimes I can't tell which way's up. Why the hell do I feel this way? He doesn't feel anything for me anymore. He just wants to be 'friends'..."
"Because you cared for him so. Don't beat yourself up over him. He's not worth it."
"I just wish I was an unfeeling b**ch. With a heart of ice and stone. Then I wouldn't hurt. I wouldn't feel this bad. It's been nearly 2 years you know. And the idiot has to come back into my life and hurt me all over again. I know he didn't mean to hurt me again, but just coming back and *pretending* everything was okay again was like pouring salt into the wound. He doesn't seem to understand why this is so difficult for me."
"I know, sweetie, I know. I hope things get better for you soon."
"So do I...it all starts with this..."
"This is what I submitted to them today. I hope he responds..."