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.

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Give me a little time to figure out my problems and I find out that I’m happier than I know I was.

Look me in the eye and promise me salvatation, and I think of her once again.

Seriously, how long have I been hung up on Sarah? It’s fucking ridiculous. I do not miss youth if this is all it was.