Dear Diary 3 - Perfect
God, I've been sick lately.
I think it must be exams. I hope that's it. Well, it has to be. I always get nauseous when I'm nervous or uptight about something. I've been uptight a lot lately.
Scott's been so concerned. He said if I'm still sick when he gets home on Wednesday, he's taking me to the doctor. He says the stomach flu shouldn't last more than one a week, and it's been that long, at least. He's called three times today. Silly, sweet guy.
We've been all about the wedding lately. All we talk about is plans. It's six months away, and he's got almost everything set. He picked out everything, the hall for the reception, the caterer, the menu, the honeymoon destination, even the date. At least he let me pick out my own dress.
I feel so overwhelmed. I feel I'm being swallowed up by all of this. I'm so scared that I'm going to lose myself in him, in us.
All my friends keep gushing about how lucky I am. He's such a great guy, and he loves me so much. I must be so happy. I guess I am. Yeah, of course I am.
I'm doing great in school, I'm about to marry a man who loves me more than life itself. Things couldn't get any better. My life is perfect.
Except, of course, for that test in the bathroom, the white stick with that damn blue line down the middle.
God, I've been sick lately.
I think it must be exams. I hope that's it. Well, it has to be. I always get nauseous when I'm nervous or uptight about something. I've been uptight a lot lately.
Scott's been so concerned. He said if I'm still sick when he gets home on Wednesday, he's taking me to the doctor. He says the stomach flu shouldn't last more than one a week, and it's been that long, at least. He's called three times today. Silly, sweet guy.
We've been all about the wedding lately. All we talk about is plans. It's six months away, and he's got almost everything set. He picked out everything, the hall for the reception, the caterer, the menu, the honeymoon destination, even the date. At least he let me pick out my own dress.
I feel so overwhelmed. I feel I'm being swallowed up by all of this. I'm so scared that I'm going to lose myself in him, in us.
All my friends keep gushing about how lucky I am. He's such a great guy, and he loves me so much. I must be so happy. I guess I am. Yeah, of course I am.
I'm doing great in school, I'm about to marry a man who loves me more than life itself. Things couldn't get any better. My life is perfect.
Except, of course, for that test in the bathroom, the white stick with that damn blue line down the middle.