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Hello, reader!

As of August 25th, I have become involved in a long distance relationship. Granted, he isn't very far away in relative terms. Seulement trois heures d'ici. Does that even make sense?

(I'm torn about what to do with my French--to maintain and build upon it… or to discard it.)

I'm not sure what exactly I plan to include in this entry, but I want to write with two people in my mind: Root Beer and future Lucia.

So, chances are that when the two of you are reading this entry for the first time, you probably don't need to read this yet. I wanted to write this entry so that both of you have access to something when these waters get rough. Oh, I know the title of this entry now!

"for use in an emergency at sea"

Dear Root Beer, you should know by now that you are incredibly important to me. You are so much more than my significant otter (intentionally "otter" wink . You've been my best friend for years. Directly and indirectly, you've been my journal, two listening ears, two reading eyes. You have saved me more than once in the past, and so I view you as my hero. You've been with me since I was just a young'un, and you stayed with me until I grew into the person I am today.

We've been through ups and downs already, even beyond our relationship. I have hurt you before and both of us are aware of that. While you may have lingering pain or subdued intolerance from that time, while I do have many regrets of hurting you like I did, somehow by some stroke of a miracle, you and I are together.

I don't know about you (addressing both Root Beer and future Lucia), but I'd very, very much like it to stay that way. It'll be hard, I know. In sooth, I find that it is already hard for me to believe in you when I can't be with you. It's hard for me to put my full faith in you, hard for me to trust that you'd stay without being bound. Does it pain you to read that? But, despite my difficulties (which lead to detrimental frustrations, I assure you), I have hope.

Perhaps one can say that hope is writing this entry right now. Y'see, this entry is here to save us. If there's a leak in our boat, if waves come crashing down on us, if a foreigner appears to blow our boat to smithereens, this is a back up. This entry is a collection of prayer, of my wish for our future, Root Beer.

Look, I know we're young. You know it, too. Lo and behold, everybody knows it. Are we living in a world that doubts the youth? Perhaps so. I don't want to doubt us, though. I want to look at you and know that we'll make it. I want to look at you and see a lasting happiness. I want to look at you and not be scared that you'll leave me.

When I look at you, I see is my will to love you. It's arguably borderline obsessive, I think. I look at you and I pray that when I blink, you'll still be there. I'm so grateful when you are there, Root Beer. You were, you are, and I wish for you to forever be my pillar of support. Do you think you're willing to do that for me?

I wish that I was wiser right now than I will be the next time I read this entry. I wish I could offer new insight to my future self, something that would make her go, "Ah, of course, why didn't I think of that before?" but, alas, I am you, Lucia. What you are reading right now, Lucia, are your own words.

According to my original intention for this journal entry, I was going to format it in chunks of advice. If you are scared, remember this. If you're losing hope, remember this. If you think this, remember this.

If you this, remember that.

But I'm not wise enough to know what I or you (Root Beer) will be feeling in the future. Similarly, I do not know if I'm wise enough to give proper advice in the theoretical world where I do know what concerns the future holds. All I can do now is tell you what I wish for, what I'm willing to do, and where I hope the future will be. In doing so, I hope to redirect us when we go astray… if I can use that term, "astray."

I am not one to believe in destiny. Hypocritically, I do use fate as reassurance. I often tell myself this or that was/is "meant to be." In sooth, I don't think there's a proper future path and an improper future path. I just want to be happy

and you, Root Beer, make me happy (among other emotions). I honestly believe that the concept of "The One" shouldn't be limited to one other person. I feel like if both you and I truly, truly, truly want to make this work, this will work. I don't like thinking that you and I are destined to fail. I also don't like thinking that there's someone else out there better suited for me than my precious best friend, my living journal, my pillar of support, and my beloved hero.

I don't know if Root Beer will read this entry several times, but I know future Lucia will. I know she will because I am her and I know she'll have breakdowns and cry because she's scared of the unknown, absolutely terrified by uncertainty.

Hello, you, future Lucia, future me. Why are you reading this again? Are you in a moment of doubt? Because even though I can't give you his words, I want you to know that you can trust him and trust in his love for you. Are you scared he will leave you? I can't speak for him, but hasn't life always kept him around? Life will continue to keep him around, okay? *pets future Lucia* Are you lonely? Is he not speaking to you? Has he said or not said something that made you feel unwanted or dull? It's okay, future me. He might be busy, he might be ill. He could be tired. God forbid he be confused, but he's got a good head on his shoulders and he's smart enough to realize how much you mean to him and how much he means to you. We may be young now, and perhaps we're still young when you read this again, but I know, and pray you still know now, that the two of you are entirely capable of being mature about things. Did you have a fight? Talk it out. Is there a wall? Break it down and be honest. Dear future Lucia, I love Root Beer and you do, too. Love is strange but love can last. I want this, Lucia. Please do your best to let me keep this.

Hello, you, Root Beer, most cherished fellow soul. Is this your first time reading these words or have you returned from rough waters? Or are you still in turbulent seas? First of all, *hugs* Alas, I am not you and I do not know what could possibly be on your mind at this very moment. What I do know is that I want to believe in you and if you are doing anything to help my faith, thank you. I wish I could guess what thoughts are harboured in your mind, but I can't. Not with any effective accuracy anyway. Are you shifting affections? Please remember what I mean to you and remember our long and heavy history. Remember my love for you and my willingness to love you further. Are you doubting my love for you? Ask me about it, then, right now. And if you're too scared, then know that you mean the world to me. I may feel that the world is cruel sometimes and it may be hard for me to know I love the world when it pains me, but the world is promising and I can't neglect the endless potential of possibility. Are you interested in another "her"? I can never blame you, Root Beer. New things are interesting, after all. I hope you don't overlook an old apple tree for a beautiful butterfly passing by. You and I, we have roots (a history that goes way back) and, uh, idk, a leafy canopy with apples (because our love can be fruitful?? I'm trying to be metaphorical here). Please don't forget that and invest your heart for a stranger. God forbid that happen to me again, oh dear.

I miss you, Root Beer. I have given you things to remember me by in hopes that seeing bits of me will be enough to compensate for the physical distance between us. Please don't let my efforts go in vain. I know it might not seem like much (the stuffed bunny, Tighare, the green journal from 2011-16), but that's your girlfriend trying to do what she can to keep you because she loves you.

You may think, Root Beer, that I'll forget. You may think that it may be me who betrays you (Is "betray" too harsh of a word?). You may think that some stranger boy will come and sweep me off me feet and away from you. Perhaps you think that someone will catch my eye and intrigue me to the point where your worth to me is at all belittled. I assure you now, with full confidence, that I shall not sway. You know about my memory problems, but do you know about how I cope with it? I have reminders everywhere, and many of them remind me of you. You're on my mind nearly constantly. Is that hard to believe? I'm sorry if it is a lot to swallow, but I really do think about you more than I can convince you of. (Why do you think I screenshot all those snaps? I store them for literal memories.) Sometimes thoughts of you make me happy and other times, thoughts of the absence of you suffocate me, but you really are… my sun and stars. How can I forget the sun? How can I forget the stars (other than due to light pollution, etc.)? I won't forget you. I won't forget you unless you let me forget you, but even then my forgetfulness would be delayed.

Don't let us drift.

[It is now the second day of writing this entry.]

I had wished to publish this journal entry when I was most hopeful. I had wished to immortalize our relationship at its prime in this journal, Root Beer, but I seem to be plagued with… some invisible burden. C'mon, past Lucia, finish this entry for me.

Well, who to address first? Root Beer or future Lucia? Or both?

Both. You two have a lot going for you, y'know? You have the support of old friends. I know this argument may decrease in validity as friends are replaced with friends, but don't neglect the support. Root Beer, you have introduced me to so many people! Many humans which I hope to get closer to. Do they support us? I had convinced myself that they did, and I hope I'm not wrong.

My friends support us, too. And our fellow St. Monicans, yeah? Most importantly, you've gotten to know most of the immediate family. I don't know how to express the personal significance of that. My siblings ask about you really often. It's the first time I'm not completely uncomfortable with discussing my life with them. I think they're rather excited to see what becomes of us. The future Lucia wishes she would be more excited than anxious.

I mean, I'm sure at least a few of my friends merely support my happiness, but you're slowly becoming synonymous with my happiness. Now, I know I shouldn't rely entirely on you for my happiness, and after my last relationship, I know the consequences of doing so. I won't set myself up in such a vulnerable position this time. To future Lucia, be strong, okay? Root Beer will be there, but you must be able to stand on your own, to be strong enough to be his support as well, okay? And to Root Beer, please don't make this all for nought.

To the general audience, I have a very fragile mind, like hollow glass. I think it's beautiful. I think I'm fully capable of generating grand thoughts and I secretly take pride in my vivid imagination (when it's not haunting the peripheral of my vision). And like glass, I think I'm relatively transparent. You can always find me in the words of my journal, y'see? My thoughts are all here. Someone can literally read me, haha. But, hollow glass is just empty until you fill it up. I'm probably full of cracks and holes from being shattered every now and then. It's kinda hard to see through injured glass, isn't it?

But all you gotta do is heat that glass up and it'll become clear again! Melt my heart and see into my mind, Root Beer. These words are here for you to read.

[It is now the third day of writing this entry. I visited Root Beer today! I have returned to a mentality more hopeful than the first day of writing!]

I am honoured when my view count goes up because, when I write to escape The Shadow, it helps knowing that the void I'm screaming in isn't actually an empty abyss at all! But rather a public domain where the reading eyes of a stranger can send me comfort. That said, perhaps I shouldn't disclose terribly personal information because of how easy it is for someone to peer into my life. I think, however, that I'd rather be open and honest, especially in this journal. There are things no one shares and I'm convinced I'm willing to at least hint at them (if not blatantly state them) in my journals.

I think I'll just touch on two more things before I briefly review this entry and upload it to the public: intimacy and the future.

So, to Root Beer and future Lucia, think about the beginning of this all. My cravings seem to randomly peak at times throughout the year. I think having that sense of unsatiating cravings really opened me up to let someone in again and I'm so glad and so grateful that that someone is you, Root Beer. Like, perhaps I'm merely a dreamer, but this feels so… natural, being with you finally.

I'm happy that we can discuss intimate topics and I'm pleased with the pace that we're going at in physical terms. I also very much do enjoy those mornight conversations. The cruelty of almost painfully overwhelming cravings is somehow masochistically satisfying. Is that strange? Oh, but I was always the strange one, haha.

Your last few weeks before you moved were weeks full of serendipity. I'm enticed by those memories of you, Root Beer. Oh, on related memories, I also really like your parents, Root Beer! They're quite entertaining. Your mum's a sweetheart and your dad's humour decently befits my taste.

On your last day before heading three hours north, I made some very nice memories, memories that "stir" my dreams rather often. I cherish being with you, y'know? To Root Beer, I am not an unravished bride of quietness, but I'd rather give you what is left of me.

W-while I don't particularly enjoy thinking about it, I don't want to… have to give to someone else an even lesser state of myself. I'd rather stay with you and give you what I can give you. You know I can't give you everything, but I wish dearly to be able to give you enough plus more. Please give me the chance to do so!

Along with who I know you to be so far, Root Beer, I love your hands, your scent, your warmth, your touch. It saddens me that I can't physically reach out to you whenever I want to, but I want you to know that when I can embrace you, I'm especially happy. There's something about your touch that I find incredibly reassuring. To the future Lucia, I'm talking about Root Beer's feelings. Don't you agree that his touch is somehow so much more than bodily contact? There's sentiment behind it, future Lucia. Remember that, okay?

The other day, when my oldest brother's girlfriend was driving Root Beer to his new home after a night out with my siblings and some of their friends, I held Root Beer's hand. I wanted to nap a while in the car, so that I would be able to sleep while holding his hand. Doing so is something I imagine I would achieve great comfort in. I couldn't drift to the dream world, however. Instead, all I could focus on was how much farther away he would be after the end of the week. As the car approached Root Beer's new home, I held his hand tighter and tighter until, eventually, I felt two heartbeats in between our fingers. Such a sensation was bittersweet. Bitter, because Root Beer was leaving and I couldn't follow him, but sweet because I felt close to him.

Last night, Root Beer had a few too many drinks, it seems. Meanwhile, I was… rather distressed. It was in this fearful state of mind that I tried to continue this entry yesterday. I had somehow filled myself with too many shadowy thoughts, thoughts of a lonely future to be slightly more specific. Suddenly, Root Beer called and said (it may be entertaining to note Root Beer's drunk voice was loud enough to alert my sister of his words), "I miss you! I love you!" Even though he was inarguably under the influence of alcohol, hearing his voice--and hearing him say those words--revived me immediately. Dear future Lucia and Root Beer, we're sorta even now, eh? I told you I loved you when I was drunk, I think. That's what my wifey, "Ailicec," told me, at least. (I still hardly remember that night, HAHA.)

To Root Beer, I am certain my love is fully capable of lasting. To future Lucia, I can't assure you with full confidence, but I think you can trust Root Beer with your heart. To the both of you, let's make this work, okay?

I dream of a future with you, Root Beer. I always did, y'know? And you kind of did, too, I'd like to believe. We had been close for so long that a life without the other seems… wrong? I don't know if a life without you is incorrect or impossible. Regardless, I always imagined that we would stay in each other's lives. Now, though, now I see you with a much more intimate role in my future.

I think, when No'C left, I feared I was too old to find someone. Doesn't that sound silly? But, y'see, I want more than to be able to grow up and old with someone. I want to be young with that same someone as well! And when No'C left, I thought I was too old to be young.

Being with Root Beer is just… It fits so well. Not only was Root Beer an integral part of my past, but he has renewed in me a youthful spirit. I feel young again, full of ignorant enthusiasm, perhaps. I'm happy with you, Root Beer. You already were young with me, and perhaps we are still being young together. We're growing up together and I dream of growing old with you (if my body would last long enough to be considered "old" wink . You can fulfil my dream, Root Beer, if you so wish.

Allegedly, I was Root Beer's first crush. When I was in grade ten, right before No'C, I had fantasized about making Root Beer's first love simultaneously his last love, but my motivation at the time was tainted, corrupted. Currently, I still am infatuated with the idea that I can be Root Beer's last love, but things are different this time. This time, I want more than to make Root Beer happy. I want to make myself happy as well! And I think I was missing that before. I was missing the incentive to live for me. The relationship between us now, Root Beer, is one that I wish to be able to benefit the both of us. I hope it does so already. It'd be nice for this to continue.

Alright, well, it's getting late once again. If need be, perhaps I'll build another life raft another time. To wrap things up, I just want to remind you, Root Beer, that I love you and plan to continue to love you. I pray for mutuality (but I love you "mostestes" haha). I hope you're doing well! And to the future Lucia, are you feeling better now that you've read this again? If anything is bothering you, future Lucia, you can talk to Root Beer about it, okay? Openness is important, especially when he can't be physically with you to interpret your body language. And to Root Beer, if you have any concerns, if you have any uncertainties, please tell me! Not only have I lost my psychic superpower, I'm also made out of osmium, the densest naturally occurring element on our little blue planet. To the both of you, Root Beer and future Lucia, good luck! Please persevere. Be strong. Have faith and be faithful. Encourage open honesty. Console when consolation is needed, and be silly when it isn't. Enjoy this life, you two.

The lyrics of today's entry have definitely been used before. I think I even chose the same snippet of the song because all the other stanzas have the title embedded in the words (which is against my unwritten rules for the conclusion of a journal entry). Anyone who knows the title and artist of this song should be rewarded:
Backward rider in the breeze 
He comes for you, he comes for me 
My fingers ache like I'm a weathered oak 
Full of insects and disease

Good morning, good night, or good mornight, reader! Until next time! yum_puddi