Let me level with you,I’ve always been afraid to writejournals, though I’ve started to several times.
Actually the fear has always been that someone would readthem.

I do know that I have had a journal since second grade,really, so long ago that I cannot even remember the teacherI have a journal made of a manila file folder with big lined paper inside of it and sea shells colored in crayon on the front.Though vaguely I remember being proud of the blue seashells I really don’t remember the teacher or much of my mindset about being that age.

I was living in Oklahoma for six months after living in Kentucky for four, and we were getting ready to move, again up north to Wisconsin. So my journal speaks of this. Stuff like, I really like my teacher, and get this “I’m moving to Wisconsin, where the snow is.”


The primary image of Wisconsin was, in my mind,that we’d have to tunnel through snow to get out the front door.

Dissapointedly, there has never been that much snow, at least where i’ve lived around the southend of Wisconsin. My boyfriend loves snow, I’m sure he’d practically be in heaven with that much snow, he loves the cold. (blasting my dreams of a carribean cruise right out of the warm waters)


But mostly that journal has been a catch-up journal,you know, the kind that write in every once in a while and catch it up to what has been happening.I have had this policy that I write in it every time I find it.And while I haven’t found it it a while, this policy usually meansthat a majority of the journal entries start with”I should be cleaning my room, but…”

But back to why journals have scared me.I’ve always wanted to be so personal, so bare naked true to myself in my journals, stuff that I wouldn’t want anyone to really know. For myself. And because I couldn’t be that open in my own private journals, I felt that I’d be lying to myself, or something.

So why am I putting this online.Well, part of it is inspiration.Part is a desire to write, a need to write(something I haven’t done for a long time)Also, If people are going to be reading this, well then that’s the way it’s gonna be. No one is just going to stumble across it in my room while cleaning, or pick itup(like I was afraid my younger bro might have done) and just snoop.

I’ve always felt that if you can’t make it a good secret, than at least you should make it a good noise. So I have a handful of started journals with prettycovers(the neat ones you get at bookshops.) But they are worth so little to me, and they speak so softly, perhaps it’s time to roar.

So, I’m gonna try to make this a good noise loud

I went to Intervarsity tonight,the topic was “True Love.” A very cute couple from Eau Claire came to speak to usand as I listened, and watched them interact, heard what they said, i found an affirmation.

I am truely in love with Him.

Beyond lust,
beyond infautuation,

beyond just romance.

I love him.

He has become part of my life,a part of me is always just thinking of him. and it’s beyond those warm shiny feelings of new relationship, gosh, it’s been almostten months since I met him at the re-release of Star Wars.

It’s a down deep thing. Kinda like a backbone, holding me up, giving me courage, something tolean against.I know i seem to be droning on, but the depth of this thing that i’ve fallen into has begunto amaze me. a Lot…

Last week i felt hindered, smothered, tethered but it was justmy old barriers trying to reassert themselves.

Oh my private person, so afraid of being hurt

Oh my secret self, so sure of her unworthiness

Oh my silent conversations,
with my silent self, who dreampt
so deeply of love, but was leery of
reaching out for whatwas being offered.

I can no longer choose to love him.
I can only love him.
and I do