Tate's Journal

Journal Entry 1

I decided to take up on writing. I find myself as a very poetic person and I'm quite good with a pen and paper if I do say so myself. I normally would think this is a girly thing but this is a journal, not a diary. Although I will be adding my inner most thoughts into this small book. Read on if you dare.

I'm pretty messed up psycology, no wonder violet doesn't like me. I'm a freak.

I watch her day by day, It's been a few months since she told me to go away and everyday since then I've been yearning for her touch. It sounds creepy but sometimes I watch as she showers, she uses my favorite shampoo. I inhale deeply and smile.

I always wonder if she actually wants me to come back. She sometimes walks over to the chalkboard where I wrote 'I love you'. I think she's going to erase it but she never does, she stares at it for awhile. Her changes in behavior amuse me.

No one has moved into the house since the family with that boy moved out. I'm glad because that means no more douche bag kids will come and disturb my silence...

I used to love silence, but now it kind of irks me. I liked being quiet with vi, looking up at the stars with her, listeing to waves crash on the beach. Hold on a moment she's coming, I'm sittinging in her chair.

...

I moved out of the way and hovered over her shoulder for a while. She was writing in a journal like mine. I so desperatly wanted to flip through the pages to find out if there was anything about me in there.

She stopped writing for a second and checked her surrondings. I stayed still but I wanted to run and hug her, she looked like she was on the verge of a break down...which she was.

She sat at her desk and cried. I whimpered and pleaded I wanted her to tell me it was ok to come back I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to tell her everything was going to be alright.

Violet stopped crying, she looked around and said my name a few times followed by no.

All I could think of was yes, yes, say my name please I want to come back. She crawled into her bed and slowly fell asleep and one last tear rolled down her cheek. God, I just wanted to cuddle her.

As she was asleep (being the curious person I am) I flipped through a few pages. I flipped until I found my name. The page read:

"God, I miss Tate so much. I miss his touch, his scent, his voice. I want him to come back, should I say it? No, No, NO. Mom said no. Tate if you read this, ever, which you most likely won't...
I love you."

One of my tears rolled on to the page as I closed the book. For the rest of the night I'm just going to look over her.

That's it for me. Yours Truly,

Tate Langdon.