04.30.03
12564
I think I’m beginning to realize the purpose of having a journal. I’m scared out of my wits… I’ve been realizing over the past few days that I keep forgetting things. Every day is few of so many memories, and when one comes back to me years later, I can’t believe that I might have forgotten it. Like bringing Biore strips to Jessica for her birthday. That’s a memory that might have been lost had I not put it down right here. How am I supposed to remember the way that I felt at any particular time if it’s not documented? I’m realizing that I have a horrible memory. I very well may become an old person with no memory of my life. I don’t want that.
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