Broken Nation's Journal
27/7/1859
Dear journal,
It've been awhile, journal. It never did cross my mind that I'd need you again, ever since Spain took care of me. At one moment, I thought that I've finally found someone who would took care me, love me. But apparently, I shouldn't put my hope up. I mean, he tried to trade me with Austria for Veneziano. I always knew it. After all, who would want me? A child with a bad attitude that will never be as good as his little brother no matter how hard he try.
I am the unwanted.
I am useless.
It's worse when someone call him Italia, and me Romano. Didn't they know that we are both Italia? Am I really that unwanted to the point no one see me as a nation anymore? The pain was way too much for me to handle, so I turned to Veneziano, in hope that he would hear his dear brother out.
But apparently, dear brother does not important and his potato-bastard.
Every-time I try to tell Veneziano, he would brush me off and then run to his beloved German that he, apparently loves more than his own brother.
I wonder if God hates me so much that he make me suffer like this.
I sometimes questioned my own existent.
Would it be okay if I disappeared?
Ne journal, if I disappear would anyone miss me?
South Italy Romano