For this week, we were allowed to choose our own sentence starter, but an optional one was posed. I took the optional one which was about flipping through a spell book (I don’t do fantasy) and I switched it to something more realistic. The goal was to develop a character…and although I didn’t really do that…I was getting there, when of course, time ran out.
I intently flipped through the pages of my journal. Where was it? I kept the loose pages in a three ring binder. It was a binder that I had since grade 4. It had a large “R” on the cover, decorated with rhinestones, glitter, and sequences. Surprisingly, after nearly 10 years, the majority of them still remained. The juvenile look of my dearest diary entries encapsulated in my grade 4 zippered binder, was for the purpose of masking it’s contents. My hope was to not gain the attention of my siblings or parents with this binder. I didn’t want them to look here, so I was OK with them thinking it was just old school work. My little sister had found an entry once before and hand delivered it the next day at school to my then crush, Jacob Mathers – the person who the entire entry was about. He was two years older than me – which in high school meant that he didn’t know I existed. So imagine his response when this grade 9 kid runs over to him and hands him the love confessionals of her sister, Rachel – an unknown grade 10 girl that he didn’t even recognize, let alone know. In the entry, I confessed this undying love I felt I had for this guy that I didn’t really know. I created a personality for Jacob. Every movement and/or word I heard him speak, I forced to feed this man that I created in my mind.
It took a full year for me to live that down at school, so my heart palpitated at the idea of anything similar to that happening again. How was I going to ask people in this household about that journal entry? After the throw down I had with my sister after she gave Jacob that journal entry, I had sworn to hell and high water that I’d never write another journal or diary entry again. I couldn’t let them know now that wasn’t the case. That I had a little addiction to my pen and paper, and that even though I didn’t want to write again (in hopes to avoid any similar type of embarrassment), that I just couldn’t put it down. No one else listened to me like my paper did. No one else held my thoughts and secrets like my journal.
Getting over Jacob wasn’t difficult. It’s hard not to hate someone who made your grade 10 year a living nightmare. I no longer could recreate him in my mind. As every time I passed him, he made some rude, condescending snicker, cat call, or kissing sounds – totally mocking the way I thought I felt for him. But this time it was different. This time it would be worse. This journal entry was about someone I knew. Dearly. Justin Brown. We were friends, rather close friends. Our mothers were best friends, and as a result, we hung out together often. Through this time spent together, I realized that I felt more for him than I did a ‘friend’. He hated Jacob as much as I did, loved football, amusement parks, Prince, cartoons, chess, Math, conspiracy theories, and all things Science, challenging, and quirky. We both loved indie music and couldn’t comprehend what other kids our age saw in all the pop and hip hop music they polluted their minds with.
This is what I got done in the 20 minutes…we’re supposed to continue with this piece next week, but…I’m not sure. Thoughts?