I found a journal. didn’t just find it, bought it, actually. from an odd, eclectic store with antiques, art, handmade pieces, and other random things. it was tucked away & I was surprised when I pulled it out. it’s only slightly worn, but has that look of treasured leather… exactly the type of journal I like to keep on hand in my collection. (one can never have too many journals…)
when I unsnapped the journal & flipped through the pages, I was actually shocked to find the pages full. first page to nearly the very last, it’s neatly written in.
I don’t know what kind of person sells a full journal. I didn’t know what I would find inside, but I couldn’t leave without buying it & finding out.
and guys. I’m done. I’ve read it cover to cover.
it. is. p r e c i o u s.
it appears to be a series of journal entries/letters written from a guy to a girl. it is only his side of this story, because it’s his journal to her. pieces of their story have to be finished with your imagination.
I have thoughts. but I think I should let the journal tell it’s own story.
*some locations & names have been changed to protect the privacy of whoever this belonged to before.