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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Don’t want to cry over what I don’t have, but I realize what I’m like. I found someone in my position and now I know. Miss her though. Want to cry now that I’m alone.

Looking back on Sarah and our “relationship”, there’s only one reason why I was obsessed with her. She showed an interest in me. I can’t believe it took me years to get over it.