Christmas Day, 2007
5:28 p.m.
Dear Diary,
I've always thought that love was something only for adults, something that was completely remote to us younger people until later. Love couldn't be just feeling between a couple. No, that's like. Love was something different, something so intricate, so hard to find, that only married people would understand what love truly is. But what did I know? I hadn't fallen in love yet, so who was I to judge?
But, diary, I'm scared now, because I think, maybe... I'm in love.
How do you really know? All the songs and the movies and blah blah say that love is when a person makes your knees go weak, and you stutter and sputter around that person, and all you think about is when you are going to get together... love doesn't let you sleep, love makes you space out...
Well, if that's true, then I had the symptoms of love a long time ago.
But this is different. It's not like my usual 'oh, I'm in love' blonde- moment deal. It's nothing like that. I really think I might be in love. All I can think about is him... but that's not all. Not by a longshot. I- well, I feel different. Every time I'm around him I feel like I don't have a care in the world, and I would do anything... anything to save him from danger. If a murderer was killing him, I'd be there to dive in front of him, give my life, just so he could live. I want him to be the guy I kiss under the mistletoe every Christmas.
And it's scary. I hardly think I'm old enough to be in love, but as some dead guy said, "you're never too young to be in love." But I don't want to scary him away. Or anyone else, for that matter. They'd all be like, "Oh, there's Lizzie, the girl who is screwed-up insane for him." I'm not sure I want to be in love. Especially with... him.
Nobody can read this, no one, ever, and probably after I write this I'm going to tear it up and flush it down the toilet, but I had to say this. Get all the feeling out. I couldn't stand it anymore, being so close to him, and yet so far away. He's leaving. Harvard. He got accepted. I only have from now until August to tell him. Then he'll be gone... forever. But I can't tell him, I just can't... I can't take the risk of being heartbroken.
I've done some pretty dumb things in my life, and looking back... I was so naive. But this has changed me; I can sense it in the air. I'm smarter now, sharper, more aware of the dangers of this world. Maybe it's just another aspect of growing up. And maybe it's not. And my language papers... they are all about love. Just love poems about people so hopelessly in love... It's creepy. I don't want to be like this.
But I can't help it.
I love him.
I love Gordo.
5:28 p.m.
Dear Diary,
I've always thought that love was something only for adults, something that was completely remote to us younger people until later. Love couldn't be just feeling between a couple. No, that's like. Love was something different, something so intricate, so hard to find, that only married people would understand what love truly is. But what did I know? I hadn't fallen in love yet, so who was I to judge?
But, diary, I'm scared now, because I think, maybe... I'm in love.
How do you really know? All the songs and the movies and blah blah say that love is when a person makes your knees go weak, and you stutter and sputter around that person, and all you think about is when you are going to get together... love doesn't let you sleep, love makes you space out...
Well, if that's true, then I had the symptoms of love a long time ago.
But this is different. It's not like my usual 'oh, I'm in love' blonde- moment deal. It's nothing like that. I really think I might be in love. All I can think about is him... but that's not all. Not by a longshot. I- well, I feel different. Every time I'm around him I feel like I don't have a care in the world, and I would do anything... anything to save him from danger. If a murderer was killing him, I'd be there to dive in front of him, give my life, just so he could live. I want him to be the guy I kiss under the mistletoe every Christmas.
And it's scary. I hardly think I'm old enough to be in love, but as some dead guy said, "you're never too young to be in love." But I don't want to scary him away. Or anyone else, for that matter. They'd all be like, "Oh, there's Lizzie, the girl who is screwed-up insane for him." I'm not sure I want to be in love. Especially with... him.
Nobody can read this, no one, ever, and probably after I write this I'm going to tear it up and flush it down the toilet, but I had to say this. Get all the feeling out. I couldn't stand it anymore, being so close to him, and yet so far away. He's leaving. Harvard. He got accepted. I only have from now until August to tell him. Then he'll be gone... forever. But I can't tell him, I just can't... I can't take the risk of being heartbroken.
I've done some pretty dumb things in my life, and looking back... I was so naive. But this has changed me; I can sense it in the air. I'm smarter now, sharper, more aware of the dangers of this world. Maybe it's just another aspect of growing up. And maybe it's not. And my language papers... they are all about love. Just love poems about people so hopelessly in love... It's creepy. I don't want to be like this.
But I can't help it.
I love him.
I love Gordo.