I rolled over, and there it was, laying on my nightstand....

I came across my journal today. I hadn't even thought about it in about a year, and the last entry written was dated May 16, 2002. I had apparently been drinking in the Latin Quarter of Montreal that day, and was trying to think of a good reason to go back to The City. Romantic life was not so good at that time, and I felt there was nothing for me back home, but there could be a future for me in a city where I could start fresh, and didn't know anyone except the traveller's and staff at the Auberge de Jeunesse.

B-Rock bought me the journal years ago, to record all my travel stories in, and although it does contain details of that trip to Montreal I took that month in 2002, for the most part, it is a minute by minute account of the last 2-3 months of the timultuous relationship that was B-Rock and Abigail, with some horrificly depressing details of what exactly I thought of myself that spring.

As I sat down on the front stoop with a cup of coffee to read it this morning, I had no idea of the range of emotions that would come flooding back to me. Days, events and arguements that I had completely forgot about, were right there, in big messy grammatically correct writing. The young woman writing in that journal, I realized, was a complete stranger to me, and I wished I could go back in time, find the old me, and give her a big hug, and tell her, that no matter what she was thinking then, it really was going to get better in time. I wished I could go back and warn her not to say that, worry about her, or do such and such.

If only I knew then what it is I know now.........