I am so tired.
Tired of thinking of starting a journal that never seems to get to where it needs to be.
I started it off valiantly. I went out and bought from Target. It is so cute and has lots of pages. I also bought the perfect pen with brown ink that actually will look good while reading it. No one will ever know this though. Because I have yet to write in it. I have the best of intentions but a true lack of conviction. I truly believed that I would make a point to write in it every day. My journal had the perfect purpose. I was going to write about everything that I would ever want to tell my daughter, including about me. Just in case, I never got around to actually telling her, or if she never found out on her own. I would tell her what to watch out for from men, women, friends, enemies and the world. I would tell her about the mistakes I made and the ones I didn’t make. Why I think she is beautiful, and why she should think she is beautiful. All the little things that you know you should tell your little girl but never get around to doing it because something always comes up.
What really bothers me is that every time I pick it up to start, I cant think of what I want to say. I think that she will be bored with it. She will think it is wack or worse, wont even take the time to read it. It feels good to get this off my chest.
I will promise to do it tomorrow. Even if it is only a few words. They may mean the world to her.
