5:30 p.m. 05/05/04
Have you ever felt so lonely, even though there are plenty of people around you? Because that's how I feel right now. All I want is her. Walking never made me feel so dreadful. Everything I looked at reminded me of what she used to do. I saw a leaf fall from a tree. As over exaggerated as I'm acting, it almost made me burst out into tears. It reminded me of how she used to try and catch leaves falling from dying tree in the fall. Whenever she would miss the leaf, she would grunt loudly, then laugh. I stepped in a puddle and dirtied my shoes. It reminded me of how she used to jump into every puddle she saw whenever we would take a walk in the spring. The breezes made me put a jacket on. It reminded me of when I gave her my coat in the winter. She seems so warm, and cozy. We were both warm when I kissed her. When the sun got into my eyes, I squinted my eyes, and couldn't see for a second. It reminded me of when we went to the beach, and she tripped and fell into the sand. I remember trying to help her up, but she pulled me down with her. We wrestled and laughed in the sand for a couple minutes, then when swimming. I finally arrived for the service. I had the present in my pocket, and ready for her when I got there.
When I arrived, I had people coming up to me and talking to me, whether I had known them or not. I knew she was being prepped for the ceremony, and I knew she would look beautiful. She always has. When the time arrived, I stood up in front of everyone accompanied by the love of my life. I explained all of the moments we've ever had together. I shot her a couple smiles, followed by some tears. I took the present out of my pocket. I put the ring on her finger, and smiled. "I've always wanted to do this, but I never had the chance." I remember saying, before bursting into tears. I remember her last words she ever said to me at the dance.
"I love you."
I wanted to grow old with my wife.
Not attend her funeral.I love you too, Rose.
I love you too.
-Andy (your husband)
YOU ARE READING
Dear Diary,
Teen FictionMultiple diary entries over a period of days, months, and years.