The ball of the pen pressed against the paper, indelibly denting it the longer it sat. He never was good with diaries.
“I don’t need you. I know that. I don’t believe any fully functioning adult truly needs somebody.
I was me before you and I’ll be me without you, albeit a different me, because of you.
But, I do miss you… or the idea of you. As time goes on, I’m less sure of which it is.”