I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

Where does it all begin, where does it all end? I feel that I need someone, a female, to be at my side. Not physically, but emotionally. Can the two be together and apart? I save my life for her with eyes of blue, but my love and curiosity get the better of me. My eye may wander, but my heart will remain true.

A sweet sentiment, one that I wish I had backed up with action rather than secretly scribbled fantasy. I think, though, I was giving myself exactly what I could handle at the time. All the romantic notions of a girlfriend without any of the risk or effort.