Diary/Thoughts.

Diary Entry 1

Dear Diary...

Is that how you start these things off? I don't know. It's been a while since I've had one of these. I remember Steve telling me we both had one each back in the forties. It's a shame I can't get hold of it. Apparently, it's in the Smithsonian. I hope not. I think there might be some very private things in there. Actually, I don't think there is but my gut is telling me otherwise. I'll have to get off my ass and steal it back. It would probably help with my memory too. 

Speaking of books... I need to get hold of that red one that has those damn words that change me. Get it and burn it. I'd have to ask Steve about that. Although he won't be too happy about it. Same with the Smithsonian idea. That'll teach you for being a reckless punk. 

I do remember, however, the last night before I was shipped off... I spent it with Connie, Steve with Bonnie, on a date at the Stark Expo. I'm a little disappointed that there are no flying cars. Howard Stark promised us flying cars although... I probably aided in the fact there aren't any... I am sorry, Howard... I'm never forgiving myself for doing what I did... Not matter how much Steve says it wasn't me... I still did it. I visit your grave at the same time every week.

I miss being in the forties, sometimes. I miss that small apartment I shared with Steve. We had so many good times together. I wish I could remember them all. I feel so guilty over the fact that I don't remember so many things that he tells me. I want to. I genuinely want to but I can't and it kills me. He's my best friend and I should at least try harder. I do want to give him the books of memories that I have but part of me is hesitant in case something is wrong... I don't want to see any disappointment in those blue eyes of his. 

It seems Tony still hates me. Don't blame him. 

Anyway... I'll stop for now. My head's starting to hurt. 

Later. 

Bucky.