If you poured acid over your face and became hideous, I still would have considered you the most beautiful girl I'd ever met.
Since you shunned it all, I kept my feelings tucked away, and I lost the key to that box some time ago.
I love you, know that I do. I always have, and have faith that I always will. In some way or another, I like the person that you are.
Even though I objectified you and failed to see you as the perfectly lovable little imperfection you are.
Even though you never had time for me, and you always seemed too busy for this friend, you seemed like you wanted to be done with me, though I wouldn't let you go.
So I did. And then, after all this time, you said hello. And I still don't know what you want with me.
The I-don't-know-what-to-call-this-yet Journal
I'm changing the use of the journal. I'm keeping my old entries because they're special. But I'm not entirely sure what I want to do with the journal, now. "Jill & misc" Writing about Jill. A big point of interest in this chapter of my life. An