And there is more I wanted to say.

I write in journals a lot, ever since the summer after freshman year.

And I'm saving them, but I don't know why I'm keeping them.

I entertain fantasies of myself reading them again when I'm much older and looking back fondly on the memories. I don't know.

There's a part of me that would love to save them and show them to my future children, if I ever have or adopt children (especially a daughter). But then again, that would be disastrous. : ]

I don't think they should ever read some of it, but there are other entries and pages I would very much like to share. 

But I'm not writing a story, I'm not writing for any other purpose except that I like to. It's ironic that I had to create a blog so that I could spill my feelings about my journal. That don't go into my journal. 

Because that would be even more ironic, right?