Chapter 52

Sunday, September 23

2:52 pm

Dear Diary,

It has been a long time since I've written in you. No offense, but you kinda pissed me off. And I had a GREAT summer. Mum's world tour started the week after we got back from our no-so lovely family vacation. She performed in Kiwi-a-gogo land, and then went to Australia. And guess who got to go with her?

That's right. Me.

Jason, Shane, Mitchie, and Becca stayed back to take care of Autumn (and as I think about it, she really should have been named Summer) and so it was just me, Mum, and the Pussycat Dolls on an almost two month long tour. (BTW, the first show was hysterical! Mum was two hours late and she walks on stage and everyone just stares at her. She goes, "What, you thought I wasn't gonna show up? That would be unprofessional.")

We went EVERYWHERE! I saw my old mates in London and then the best part was when we went to Texas. Right when I woke up on the plane and saw that we were at the DFW airport, I legit screamed. It was quite possibly the happiest moment of my life.

And then it got better.

I got off the plane and who was to be there but my best friends. I was so happy I cried. Mum set the whole surprise up for me. We all went out to dinner and then to the concert that night.

But wait, it gets so much better.

Dallas was the last stop on the tour. After the concert, I thought we were going back to the airport to get on the plane and head back to Kiwi-a-gogo land, but nope! We drove to my old house.

I freaked out when we pulled into the driveway.

Apparently, Mum had it rebuilt into the exact same way it was before Shane and Mitchie burned it down to the ground. I ran inside and my room was almost exactly the same. The furniture was in the same place and the walls were the same colour and the carpet was still purple. Oh, how I love the way it doesn't match my red walls!

I guess it's those little things in life that just make you smile.

Gene's gone. Dead. That's the last we'll ever see of him or hear about him. Except for in People magazine and on TV, but that's about it.

You know you're home when you just smile. For no reason. Even when it's pouring rain and you're sitting out in your driveway, getting drenched, writing in your diary which has somehow become your best friend in the past year, and you look out at your street and see the familiar houses and all the familiar sights, sounds, smells.

I'm home. This is where I belong. No matter how much I hate the Texas heat, or the Republicans, it's where I need to be.

Because right now I'm actually happy. Even though I'm about to get struck by lighting and Becca is yelling at me to "GET BACK IN THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW, YOUNG MAN! ARE YOU CRAZY!?" I can't help but to smile.

Having a near-death experience has really taught me to keep my head up high and smile. Colours are brighter, the world seems like a less depressing place…

Bitch, I'm Nate fucking Gray and I'm gonna be happy whether you fucking like it or not.

And thus, Diary, I lay you down to rest. In this trashcan. Where I will never see you again. You shall go off to a land fill, contributing to global warming and the murder of helpless sea creatures, or perhaps, you will end up in a drunken hobo's trousers.

Where ever it may be that you lay, I hope that no one ever fucking finds you.

That would be problematic.

So, Diary, thanks. Thanks so much for being my only friend.

Goodbye.

Love,

Nathaniel Bernard Gray

PS- I love you.