I finished the journal I was writing/planning in last night.
A new one is waiting for me, and another after that. This one’s special. My parents gave it to me for Christmas; it comes from Florence, Italy.
I’m almost afraid to write in it; this hasn’t happened to me before. There is so much potential in those empty pages. The book itself is so beautiful; I hope my words can do it justice.
I’ll take a photo at some point.