Dear Diary

I. Lost. My.

Diary.

Okay, it’s not a diary—it’s a journal. What’s the difference? Nothing, really. It just sounds better for those of us who are over the age of 13.

Anyway, to get back on topic, my journal is missing. I’m not talking an “oops I misplaced it, and need to retrace my steps” missing. I’m talking a “tearing the freaking house apart again and again, for two solid months and still can’t find it” missing!!!!

Deep breath, Alora.

Exhale.

Another breath.

Exhale.

Okay, I’m better now.

Do you journal? In my new life, I do so on a semi-regular basis. (Until recently, of course.) But, getting started was a difficult process for me, and like many changes, it opened a great big emotional can of worms.

As a girl, I always kept a diary, recording my ups and downs, my hopes and dreams, and of course,the great loves of my young life. There was Nick, who had a crush on me for over a decade, and could describe, in painstaking detail, every dress I had worn in first grade. And, Derek, who bragged that he planned to get me pregnant before I graduated, because it was a tradition for each of the men in his family to knock-up their high school sweetheart. Pretty boy, Glen, broke my heart when he dumped me for the weird girl from the second row in Spanish class. And, I’ll never forget Mason, who kissed me at band camp, but I broke up with him soon after, because he told me he was an alien visitor from another planet.

I know, I know. You’re sitting there, wondering what could have happened to all those amazing guys, aren’t you? Well…

Nick grew up to be a terribly sweet man. Last I heard, he was happily married, and living near our old hometown. Derek went for second base with me, and I ended our relationship. He married his next girlfriend, breaking a generations-long tradition by doing so before he could get her pregnant. Glen and the weird girl lasted less than a month. I never saw him again, but I heard he gained a lot of weight, and lost his hair shortly after high school. ~snicker~ And, what about unforgettable Mason? I don’t know. Maybe he phoned home.

Where was I? Oh, yeah… Journals.

I happily documented everything in my life, until I turned seventeen. That year, I became engaged, and my brand new fiance thought it was acceptable to violate my privacy by reading an entire volume of entries. Afterward, he became hateful and jealous of the boys I’d written about. Yes… Even Mason!

What an idiot, right? But, the worse idiot was me, because I believed his trust issues and dark, jealous behavior would pass. Instead, they quickly become the heart of the relationship, and my love for journaling became the first piece of myself willingly sacrificed for the sake of my marriage.

Jeesh! Forget all that depressing crap! Just help me find my journal. It’s 6×9 inches, with a shiny, green cover, and has about 240 pages. If you see it, you can leave a message below. You can also tell me what you think of journaling, and whether or not it’s a regular part of you routine.

Here’s a cool list of 100 benefits of journaling, I thought I’d share, before I go. Oh, and here’s the best diary vlog ever: