I received my first journal at eleven one Christmas. I’ve had several since.

Over thirty years’ worth of thoughts, feelings, experiences, regrets, and confessions are inked on the pages of my diaries. Every few years I flip through a few entries to see where and who I was at the time. Sometimes, I don’t recognize myself.

Tonight, is one of those times. As I scan through the past five years, I’m hurt by the things and people I’ve tolerated. I comfort the me I was as I wipe away the tears of yesterday.

Glad that I’m not her anymore.