Dear Diary,
I cried into my hands, at a red light, out of sheer exhaustion from this subject. I want to stop feeling for it, for its constantly on my mind. I need it to relent from interrupting my senses, tingling in my fingertips and when I am tired, burning in my stomach and sitting like a rock in my brain so I am unable to rest when morning time comes. Mostly I just want you to be small again. Not a day goes by it's not there. Maybe at ten aye-em, or maybe even 11. Please, Just let there be one day. Maybe saturday, or Maybe even sunday. Because I have to. Soon(er), rather than late(r). please?
Sincerely,
Miss Lauren
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