I thought about ending this diary at the ten year mark. Next Friday. Shutting it down, closing it off... deleting it? no, I could never.

but what a sad ending this would be. No last hurrah. A whole lot of silence. Slipping quietly out while you slept, won't leave a note, but that thing we shared, I'll set it out on the table so it looks at you when you wake. That thing we share, you'd think, is out of place