Steve's Diary

May 8, 1937

Dearest Diary,

I apologize in advance for the possibility of unreadable script and tear stains on the following pages... it's a miracle I'm even willing to write about this at such a time in my life.

God, I miss him so much.

—————

I woke up at noon to the sound of thunder outside. Typical May weather. It even reflected how I've felt for the past month.

It feels like an eternity has passed by without him in my life but that's not even the worst part.

The worst last was that false hope of still being his friend after he broke it off with me. It makes me think that it was all one big lie.

When I finally got out of my bed it was 12:49.

I wasn't hungry. Not at all, actually.... I think the last time I ate was, uh, yesterday morning, maybe? I haven't gone to the store either so, I'm kind of low on food anyway.

I made my way sluggishly to the bathroom. I scratched my head and moved my hair a bit as I peed... it was so quiet.

I leaned across the sink and looked at the man in the mirror. I was somehow unrecognizable to myself at this point.

I thought to myself how great it'd be to have a friend like Bucky right now by my side in this terrible predicament... if only he was here.

I felt tears cutting through my reddening cheeks. My eyes grew to burn so much that they bored holes in my skull. I stepped back and sat on the cold tile bathroom floor and put my hands to my wet face.

—————

Writing this all down makes me realize how pathetic I am. I'm alone in my house in the bathroom midday in my pajamas crying about a supposed lost love.

How do I even know what love is? Right, I don't. Of course I don't.

I know what it's like to lose someone. To feel so desperately that you've succeeded in making their memory last forever, yet to fail all the same.

Dread it, run from it, loneliness still arrives... and now? It's here. Or should I say... only I am.

~ S. Rogers