Happy
A Journal For Your Summer
It’s cheesy sounding, isn’t it? The fact that I decided to keep a journal for our first summer together. I mean, it is a journal, of sorts – you’re probably going to find this and call it a diary, but it’s not. It’s a journal. A journal is much more manly than a diary. Of course, you’ll see it and say “Oh, Stephen, if you wanted a diary, I would have bought you that pink Hello Kitty one in the toy store!” And I’ll roll my eyes, and you’ll laugh that adorable laugh I love before kissing my cheek tenderly. Yeah, I know you that well. But anyways, I just finished my last final exam of our eleventh grade year. You’re still at school, wrapping up your American history exam, probably struggling to remember the exact date the Cold War ended, or try and remember ten national affects the KKK had on America. I tried telling you that you needed to study more, but you wouldn’t have it.
I can’t even believe that we made it through our junior year. I never thought I’d live to see the day where I bought myself an SAT prep book – much less actually sat down and read it. You bought like, four of them, though. And borrowed a bunch more from the library. Personally, I’d be fine with a state university, but I know you: you won’t settle for anything less than Ivy League. I don’t know. I should probably start thinking about writing a couple of college essays over the summer, but I don’t know if I even want to bother. I just want to spend the summer with you and our friends – if they’re even around, I mean. James and Kim are both on vacation, and Amanda seemed pretty excited about her summer internship. And believe me, Matt and Luke just got all that new camping equipment for their birthday (apparently like, $300 worth – that’s like a $150 present per twin!) and I doubt they’ll do anything but go fishing or whatever the fuck they do with their spare time. Whatever.
Anyways, I’m not sure how much I’ll write in this thing. It’s kind of stupid, right? This’ll probably be the only time I bother writing, but at least I gave it a valid attempt.
You make me happy whether you know it or not.
We should be happy that’s what I said from the start.
I am so happy knowing you are the one,
That I want for the rest of my days,
For the rest of my days.
You’re all of my days.
Holy fuck, you should have seen your face after that last rollercoaster! It was a combination of you being sick to your stomach, being unable to walk properly, and being angry with me for making you go on in the first place. I didn’t think it was too scary, though. There were only a couple of parts that were upside-down, and it wasn’t as high off the ground as I thought it was going to be. Oh well. I guess I’m just a bit of a rollercoaster snob. Anyways, then you made me go on that kid ride with you; the one with the spinning strawberries. I just laughed at how intensely you were spinning the damned thing. I swear, if we were on it any longer you might have spun it off its hinge. And then of course, when we rid it again and you gave me a handjob… But I won’t get into that. I just felt like a total badass getting sexual favors in a strawberry, is all.
So, yeah. This’ll probably be the last time I write in this thing. I mean, I know I said that the last time I wrote something, but this time I’m serious. I’m totally over this whole ‘keeping track of the summer’ shit. How old am I? Ten? Anyways, you keep talking about seeing that new horror movie that came out last week, so maybe I’ll take you to see it tomorrow. It’s supposed to rain, last time I checked. Tickets and popcorn are on me. But sneaking me kisses throughout the movie? That’s all you.
You’re lookin’ so fresh,
It’s catching my eye.
Why, oh why, did I not see this before,
The girl I adore was right in front of me.
And now I’ll take a step back and look in your eye.
And ask why it took so long to see,
We’re meant to be.
I’m alone on your birthday. It sounds more pathetic when I write it out, doesn’t it? You’re off spending time with your grandparents and cousins for your seventeenth birthday weekend, and while I know we joked around a lot about getting fuck wasted for your birthday, I’m kind of glad we’re not. For starters, the last time I got that drunk I ran around the party in just my sneakers, and that’s not an experience I’m dying to relive. Besides, I know you don’t drink. You say you do, but you don’t. You also don’t smoke mad weed, which is what I used to do. Remember when you came into biology last year and sat down next to me, and the first thing you said was “You smell like mad weed”? Yeah, I remember that, because that was when I first realized that you were cooler than all the others girls in our grade. You were different.
My parents were really happy when I started dating you, you know. I don’t think I ever told you because I didn’t want to sound like the clingy boyfriend, but I overheard them taking one night about how you’ve “changed Stephen for the better” and “because of her, his grades and attitude have just completely changed.” I’m not angry or anything. I mean, it’s kind of naïve to go around thinking change is for the worse, and you’re a better person for not letting others change you. You changed me, and you did it for the better. So… thanks.
Alright, so today I wrote in this thing because I was bored. But I have the rest of our summer completely booked, so if you ever happen to find this in my room or something, don’t be surprised when you see this is the last time I’ve written. And I’m not kidding this time.
Oh, the good, the bad, the ugly.
The smiles, the laughs, the funny.
Or all the things we put each other through.
It’s for you, for you, for you.
We got our class schedules for next year in the mail yesterday. Even though we’re taking the same classes (how I got into AP European history, I’ll never know) we don’t have any of them together. Of course, you and your unfailing optimism just smiled and said that it wasn’t the end of the world. But you know me – I’m over dramatic, and I thought it was. But so long as you think we’ll be okay, then I know we’ll be okay. I just wanted to let you (you meaning you, my girlfriend, not the journal) that this was the greatest summer of my life, hands down. All of the laughs, all of the memories, and even the occasional arguments, they all proved to me what I already knew: that you’re the only one for me. And I know, I know, I’m only seventeen years old, how the hell am I supposed to know that you’re the one for me? Well, just trust me, I do. You’re all I need and want, and this summer was the greatest time of my life. Because of you.
I don’t think I’m going to see you much next week, because you have preseason for soccer. Maybe I’ll play a sport, too. I don’t know. If it keeps me from coming to your games, than I definitely won’t. I’ll just wait for winter and maybe enter a few more snowboarding competitions. Maybe I’ll go running. Maybe I’ll get into an Ivy League school. Maybe I’ll get really good grades this year. Maybe I’ll buy my parents a gift for the holidays. I don’t know. For some reason, I feel invincible going into our senior year. Yeah, maybe it’s the fact that I got a hair cut, or that I saved up my money and bought some new jeans, but I think it’s the fact that I have you with me. Honestly, when I see you walking down the hall or down the street, all I can think is “Damn, she looks like someone I want to be with.” And it’s totally true. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
So much for not writing this summer…
I’m happy knowing that you are mine.
The grass is greener on the other side.
The more I think the more I wish,
That we could lay here for hours and just reminisce.
I can’t even believe that we made it through our junior year. I never thought I’d live to see the day where I bought myself an SAT prep book – much less actually sat down and read it. You bought like, four of them, though. And borrowed a bunch more from the library. Personally, I’d be fine with a state university, but I know you: you won’t settle for anything less than Ivy League. I don’t know. I should probably start thinking about writing a couple of college essays over the summer, but I don’t know if I even want to bother. I just want to spend the summer with you and our friends – if they’re even around, I mean. James and Kim are both on vacation, and Amanda seemed pretty excited about her summer internship. And believe me, Matt and Luke just got all that new camping equipment for their birthday (apparently like, $300 worth – that’s like a $150 present per twin!) and I doubt they’ll do anything but go fishing or whatever the fuck they do with their spare time. Whatever.
Anyways, I’m not sure how much I’ll write in this thing. It’s kind of stupid, right? This’ll probably be the only time I bother writing, but at least I gave it a valid attempt.
You make me happy whether you know it or not.
We should be happy that’s what I said from the start.
I am so happy knowing you are the one,
That I want for the rest of my days,
For the rest of my days.
You’re all of my days.
Holy fuck, you should have seen your face after that last rollercoaster! It was a combination of you being sick to your stomach, being unable to walk properly, and being angry with me for making you go on in the first place. I didn’t think it was too scary, though. There were only a couple of parts that were upside-down, and it wasn’t as high off the ground as I thought it was going to be. Oh well. I guess I’m just a bit of a rollercoaster snob. Anyways, then you made me go on that kid ride with you; the one with the spinning strawberries. I just laughed at how intensely you were spinning the damned thing. I swear, if we were on it any longer you might have spun it off its hinge. And then of course, when we rid it again and you gave me a handjob… But I won’t get into that. I just felt like a total badass getting sexual favors in a strawberry, is all.
So, yeah. This’ll probably be the last time I write in this thing. I mean, I know I said that the last time I wrote something, but this time I’m serious. I’m totally over this whole ‘keeping track of the summer’ shit. How old am I? Ten? Anyways, you keep talking about seeing that new horror movie that came out last week, so maybe I’ll take you to see it tomorrow. It’s supposed to rain, last time I checked. Tickets and popcorn are on me. But sneaking me kisses throughout the movie? That’s all you.
You’re lookin’ so fresh,
It’s catching my eye.
Why, oh why, did I not see this before,
The girl I adore was right in front of me.
And now I’ll take a step back and look in your eye.
And ask why it took so long to see,
We’re meant to be.
I’m alone on your birthday. It sounds more pathetic when I write it out, doesn’t it? You’re off spending time with your grandparents and cousins for your seventeenth birthday weekend, and while I know we joked around a lot about getting fuck wasted for your birthday, I’m kind of glad we’re not. For starters, the last time I got that drunk I ran around the party in just my sneakers, and that’s not an experience I’m dying to relive. Besides, I know you don’t drink. You say you do, but you don’t. You also don’t smoke mad weed, which is what I used to do. Remember when you came into biology last year and sat down next to me, and the first thing you said was “You smell like mad weed”? Yeah, I remember that, because that was when I first realized that you were cooler than all the others girls in our grade. You were different.
My parents were really happy when I started dating you, you know. I don’t think I ever told you because I didn’t want to sound like the clingy boyfriend, but I overheard them taking one night about how you’ve “changed Stephen for the better” and “because of her, his grades and attitude have just completely changed.” I’m not angry or anything. I mean, it’s kind of naïve to go around thinking change is for the worse, and you’re a better person for not letting others change you. You changed me, and you did it for the better. So… thanks.
Alright, so today I wrote in this thing because I was bored. But I have the rest of our summer completely booked, so if you ever happen to find this in my room or something, don’t be surprised when you see this is the last time I’ve written. And I’m not kidding this time.
Oh, the good, the bad, the ugly.
The smiles, the laughs, the funny.
Or all the things we put each other through.
It’s for you, for you, for you.
We got our class schedules for next year in the mail yesterday. Even though we’re taking the same classes (how I got into AP European history, I’ll never know) we don’t have any of them together. Of course, you and your unfailing optimism just smiled and said that it wasn’t the end of the world. But you know me – I’m over dramatic, and I thought it was. But so long as you think we’ll be okay, then I know we’ll be okay. I just wanted to let you (you meaning you, my girlfriend, not the journal) that this was the greatest summer of my life, hands down. All of the laughs, all of the memories, and even the occasional arguments, they all proved to me what I already knew: that you’re the only one for me. And I know, I know, I’m only seventeen years old, how the hell am I supposed to know that you’re the one for me? Well, just trust me, I do. You’re all I need and want, and this summer was the greatest time of my life. Because of you.
I don’t think I’m going to see you much next week, because you have preseason for soccer. Maybe I’ll play a sport, too. I don’t know. If it keeps me from coming to your games, than I definitely won’t. I’ll just wait for winter and maybe enter a few more snowboarding competitions. Maybe I’ll go running. Maybe I’ll get into an Ivy League school. Maybe I’ll get really good grades this year. Maybe I’ll buy my parents a gift for the holidays. I don’t know. For some reason, I feel invincible going into our senior year. Yeah, maybe it’s the fact that I got a hair cut, or that I saved up my money and bought some new jeans, but I think it’s the fact that I have you with me. Honestly, when I see you walking down the hall or down the street, all I can think is “Damn, she looks like someone I want to be with.” And it’s totally true. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
So much for not writing this summer…
I’m happy knowing that you are mine.
The grass is greener on the other side.
The more I think the more I wish,
That we could lay here for hours and just reminisce.
♠ ♠ ♠
I hope you enjoy it =]