To remember

Over the summer at my Aunt Kris' house in Washington, my mom saw me writing in here. She says, "What is that? What are you typing?" I explained to her what this is, and what it means to me. I told her that I've been writing in here since the beginning of high school and that each post, to me, shows my growth. How I want to be able to look back and read all of this one day. I write in here because sometimes it's easier to spell it out than it is to say to anybody else. I write in here because it helps myself. And she said, "I wish I could read it. I wish I could know what's been going through your mind for all the years that I've missed out on."

Tonight I sealed a huge folder envelope filled with every page written on here, up to today, and tomorrow I'm mailing it to her. Because sometimes phone calls just don't say enough.