5:54am
Wake me up when I'm beautiful and loved.
11:48am
Maybe it's the small things that count. Like the small memories no one thinks are significant except you. Like the first day of summer when I was ten and I spent all day swimming. After dinner I had a shower and went out in my pajamas with my wet hair and we talked for hours in the garden.
Or when we didn't have to pack away our polly pockets when I was seven because it was finally the summer holidays and we had the whole summer to continue playing with them.
Or when I met up with Katy every friday of the school holidays.
Or the time I went to Hannah's when our sisters were at prom and we watched the third Harry Potter. We got the call from her mum saying Tesco had no onion rings and we laughed till we cried.
Maybe these are the moments to live for.
6:48pm
Don't worry about me. That's fine. I'm fine. I'm the master of OK.
7:05pm
What if it never gets better?
YOU ARE READING
Dear Diary... *January 2015*
Non-FictionThat's the difference between you and me, you defended yourself from the depression like it was a new enemy, where I welcomed it like a new friend. Just the thoughts of a English teenager.
