Half of a Love Story.

Diary Entry One.

| | DIARY ENTRY ONE | |

January 17th 2015

STARING out the window, I remembered all that had happened over the last few months. Right now, I had made my decision, but for now, I just wanted to remember.

So here's the story:

My secretary left the room, taking a large pile of papers with him, ready to ship them off.  He closed the door behind him, leaving me all alone.

Alone; like how I was at home. Like how I had been for the past year. Nothing was the same anymore. Not like how it used to be. I still remembered the days when my wife was alive, when my daughter was still a toddler and how my wife would gush over her. My wife loved Alexis, and I loved them both with all my heart. And when my wife died… half of my heart died with her.

But there was still the other half that was healthy and still alive, the other half that belonged to my daughter. The very daughter that I loved with all my being. The daughter that was now gone; just like her mother.

And once again, I was alone; in solitude.

A framed picture stood on my desk. The very one that I had taken at Alexis’ third birthday all those years ago. Twenty years ago to be exact. Those were the times when I was happy; the times where I felt like I was actually living rather than walking the Earth like a human zombie.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to look away from that picture. My wife, Amy was sitting on the grass with a silly party hat on the top of the head, grinning widely with her arms wrapped around our daughter who was celebrating her third birthday at the time. She looked ridiculous, what with all the pink glitter and confetti mixed in with her chestnut brown hair.

But I wouldn’t change a thing about my daughter for the world. She was perfect. She really was. But then my wife died and we moved to Seattle.

Tearing my eyes away from the photo, I managed to bring myself out of my daze and be able to slam away all the heartfelt emotions into one of my many drawers, aka the photo frame. Just before I managed to bring myself to slam shut the drawer, my eyes caught sight of a book. They lingered there for a while before I pulled out the book from under the stack of papers and shut the drawer.

I had set eyes on this book for the first time when I had gone to collect some things from my daughter’s apartment as a sort of remembrance. My brain wasn’t working properly and it just hurt to be in her apartment knowing that she would never come back to it so I just grabbed a bunch of stuff that meant something to me, and I hadn’t been back to it since. I hadn’t even sold the place. It was still there, like a monument of her life.

It was a brown book, one which had some small particles of dust sitting on top of it, probably having gathered for spending so much time in my drawer.

So this was the first time that I had picked up the book in nearly a year. I had absolutely no idea what was inside but that didn’t stop me from opening the front cover and starting to read.

| | 24TH JANUARY 2013 | |

Should I smile because you're my friend,

or cry because that's all you'll ever be?

 “No… no. Not this one.”

“Haven’t you found them yet?” he grunted from the couch behind me.

“I will. Just give me a minute… there!  Found them.” I grabbed the cases and wafted them in Noah’s face, he didn’t think that I would find them, but I did.