17th of March, 1129, Sunday (cont.)
Pinkie once told me that
anything could be cured with cake.
Maybe that’s true.
It was over a maple-glossberry cake that we talked about it.
Talked about everything.
About what happened, and where things went off.
It’s comforting, a little, to know that they actually were mad for a while. That they were angry. At least now I know, and I don’t have to guess.
I thought I would be a bit more sad to know that I did cause trouble.
But strangely
it feels like relief.
He’s long gone though. He never forgave me. This
is something I can live with. I think.
It’s not that we weren’t in love. But after what I did, I guess
the only way to describe it is
that I’m happy that he’s moved on.
Rainbow tells me that he’s found someone new, only recently. But he’s happy. He’s happy. And that’s good.
As for myself, dear Diary, we’re happy too, aren’t we?
But yes. It’s a relief to know that even though everyone was mad, they too eventually understood. It’s nice to be on the other end for once.
It’s nice to know people do actually care.
It’s nice to know that you’re not a murderer, isn’t it?
Do we need that weight on our hearts and souls?
But it was still my fault. And you can’t avoid the truth. No. You can’t avoid the truth.
Loveacres Reserve Tally
Ill/sick:
*Cleary something else is causing this. I’ll have to look into it. Maybe it’s a symptom and not the disease. But what causes defluffed tails?
Duties: