AN: I was thinking of what song to use for the January 13 entry, and I thought of several relevent songs but couldn't get Mi Mancherai out of my head (by Josh Groban). So I finally gave in and looked up the lyrics, and just about died. I'm not posting them here for space sake, but I HIGHLY suggest you look them up here: http/ After joining the Roseshipping club, I've learned that I was mistaken about several facts in this. I'm ignoring my new knowledge and continuing using my prior assumptions.

ALSO. I've lost all track of time. I think I screwed up somewhere, and made her older than she ought to be. Sorry.

March 27

Keeper of My Innermost Secrets,

Oh, I cannot begin to describe how beautiful life has become knowing my dear Maximillion loves me so. Why, last night we went to New York, to Broadway for a show, and it was so wonderful. We sat in a box, apart from all the other guests ('my immortal being cannot dwell among the common rabble,' he said, and then realized that, being with me, he had either admitted himself to be more than 'common rabble' and turned red! I realized what made him pause and saved him, of course!). The show was spectacular, but even if it had been horrible I think I would have been perfectly happy just sitting there in the dark, knowing he was there beside me.

Reading this over, I realize just how hopeless I am, dear diary! I used to wonder how women could act in such ways. What depths have I fallen to for a man! Man? No, of course, that's the difference: my dear Maximillion is no man, he's a kind, gentle, wonderful part of my very own soul. We think the same thoughts, we sing the same melody, we see the same visions! He's not just another coarse being, but my own alter ego. We are, dear diary, as one.

May 5

Dear Book of Thought,

Maximillion is away on business, and you're all I have to talk to. Not that you're only as a last ditch! I do love you, too!

I feel so badly; he had such a look on his face when he left, kissing my fingers and ensuring me he'd return soon and to look after myself. Ha, it's only been a day, and I already feel as though a part of me is gone!

Sometimes I worry about my poor dear Maximillion. He can be so set on his projects! For example, he took it into his head to paint a picture for me before he left, a picture of a young girl all in white stepping gently on the clouds of heaven, and he proceeded to paint the picture and forget about all else! I had to bring meals in for him, because he simply would not let it go. He would finish it before he set off, he said, if it was the last thing he did. For two and a half days he did nothing but paint, and several times I caught him asleep with paint smeared all over the floor (It will be a bear to get out), looking so helplessly romantic I didn't have the heart to tell him to stop with any force. I did tell him to rest, but he simply wouldn't listen. Amazing, how he can concentrate so hard for so long!

But he did finish it in time, and it's absolutey gorgeous.

Oct 30

Lovely Secret-Holder,

How the time flies and flies, far too fast. And although the road runs through Paradise, even paths of gold must have some bumps, I suppose.

I must admit something... I cannot ignore it. I haven't been myself the past few months. I think... I think I may be sick with the sickness that aunt had. They never told me, after the check-up I had nearly forgotten about. It might be something else. I won't tell Maximillion until I'm sure, I suppose. But we talk about everything! Well, no sense in false worry.

December 16

Immortal Friend,

Ugh, I feel so tired! I must get more sleep.

Today Mr. Pegasus had quite a fancy party. Maximillion and I snuck into the ballroom and played a few duets as we like to do. Then he decided he wanted to dance, but neither of us felt like mingling with the rather boring guests. So we danced together, by ourselves, in the empty, silent ballroom.

Silent! How could I say such a thing? The music of angels filled the air and the beat of our hearts kept time (Oh but that sounds so cliche!).

I can't imagine a day any more wonderful.

Diary, I just had a thought: will he ask me to marry him? I'm sure our parents would approve. I--I guess I hope that he does.

Diary, I'm going to say something incredibly dorky but absolutely true: I love him more than life itself.

Jan. 12

This crazy illness! I wish it would leave me alone! Mother won't let me outdoors and Maximillion's father won't let him see me until we find out whether it's contageous or not. It's not too bad, but the doctors won't give a conclusion either way!

Jan. 13

Dear Dream-Catcher,

Last night... what a night!

I had gone to bed early (curse this pesky cold!) I was awakened by a tap on my window. Sitting up, I heard music. I went to the window, only to see my dear beau standing in the snow below, singing to me! Serenading me with the violin, wraithlike as he wove from side to side in time to the winding music. I recognized the music immediatly... Mi Mancherai, one of my favorites. The violin winds through the song like the wind through dark trees, and for a moment everything blurred and there was only the music and the glide of the bow and the moonlight reflecting eerily on the white snowy ground and on his gleaming hair...

I think I nearly blacked out, but recovered once I put my head down (again... this stupid cold!). And then he stopped, looked up, and threw something with a great effort. It missed my window, of course, and he had to retreive it from where it fell in the bushes along the house, and then he slipped and fell face first in the snow! As he picked himself up he kept his head down, looking so abashed I couldn't help but laugh, and then looked up again, made a great show of bringing the object to his lips and then laying it gently on the ground under my window.

I ran downstairs as fast as I could (oh dear, I hope mother hasn't found out...) and found under my window a red rose. In winter!

And my prince had disappeared into the snowlit lands.