Dearest Diary,
Aye, methinks I am in love. "Love", such a strout word. I doth not care to marry Paris, for Romeo is the one I love! Romeo, oh Romeo! If't be true only thee kneweth I hath fallen in love with thee at first sight. His words of which that gent speaketh bringeth me most wondrous joy! Alas, mine nurse toldeth me that Romeo, mine Romeo, wast a Montegue. Oh, if't be true mine parents hath found this out, those gents would has't that gent beheaded! But mine love for that gent shalt stayeth the same. Romeo, oh Romeo! For I cannot expell his name out of mine head! Is t wrong of me to love who I should misprise? I doth not think t is. Methinks if't be true t is true love, t should not beest seen as such a crime! Oh, I wanteth to marry Romeo so that I doth not has't to marry Paris! Alas, the marrying half wilt beest tricky. We wilt needeth to beest secretive about t.
