Christina Heaston

Don’t you remember you told me you loved me?

Posted in Uncategorized by christinaheaston on April 6, 2008

Today my little brother turned 18. I bought him lottery tickets and my dad thinks that’s a sin.

I finally unwrapped my journal. I bought it this past July while I was in Africa. It’s AMAZING. I’ve been scared to write in it because I’ve been waiting for the perfect words and the perfect stories and the perfect handwriting. I, of course, haven’t found those things, but maybe something better…something honest and sincere.

It smells just like the squatter camps we visited. It’s not like it smells good…but I can’t stop sniffing it. It’s like when you pump gasoline. You know its not a great smell…but you love it, and you can’t figure out why. I’ll never understand the power of your senses and the spark of nostalgia. Since I unwrapped my journal, all I’ve been thinking about is this boy. I don’t remember his name, I don’t think I could ever pronounce it. I just know he loved playing soccer. I just know I see his face every time I open my journal.

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