When Jon and I met and fell in love, I stopped writing in a journal. I only wrote sporadically in those first two or three years and then I didn’t write in a journal again. The story I had told myself for years was that I stopped writing because I was finally happy. The perception I had of my diaries back then was that I was lost and sad because I was alone. I was a single girl just crying into my notebooks, pathetic really. But rereading them showed me that wasn’t true at all. I was just trying to figure out who I was, what I wanted, and just as importantly, what I didn’t want. I now wish I
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