I still have the diary. So much has changed in my life since Jack gave me the diary two years ago. I’m not even sure if I should still be using it. A diary is meant to be a chronicle of one’s life, but my life has changed so much that maybe it can’t even be considered the same life. Perhaps it would make more sense to get rid of this thing and start fresh. But I guess it’s useless to try to destroy the past.

Donny is still in bed, though it’s nearly three in the afternoon. I didn’t hear him come in last night, but I think it’s safe to say he had a rough night and needs his rest. I don’t know where he goes most nights and he never tells me, but I respect his privacy. A man needs to have a life of his own. We’ve been together for over a year now, but there’s still so much I don’t know about him. But I can’t imagine anyone loving anybody more than I love Donny. And he needs me, just like I need him. 

I remember when I moved here to Twin Rocks, Oregon. The day after my high school graduation, I fled town. My parents had already disowned me, because of Jack, and Jack had grown bored of me. I was simply a temporary diversion in his life, and he never had any real intention of leaving his wife. Shortly after my 18th birthday, Jack began to lose interest. I guess because I was no longer so forbidden, I was no longer a thrill to him, and he moved on to the next young thing. And so I bought a bus ticket and never looked back.

My first week in Twin Rocks, I met Donny. I got a job at the local carnival just to make a little extra money to help get my life together. I found Donny passed out drunk on the carousel one morning, broken, dirty, and homeless. I helped get him cleaned up and we hit it off right away. Anyone else would have seen him as a homeless drug addicted bum, but I could see him as the free spirit he is. Though he reeked of booze and cigarettes and hadn’t a penny to his name, there was something about Donny that drew me to him. I know he has his problems, but he’s had a tough life, even more so than me.