[Her fingers run over the soft leather of the cover, and she doesn't have to ask who it's from. Elena has always been the one with the journals, writing down all her feelings.
Josie doesn't know if she'd ever be able to do it. To articulate all the feelings that are swimming in the back of her head day after day. Putting words to them makes them real, and sometimes she doesn't want them to be. But the gesture means a lot all the same.
Pulling the journal to her chest, she flops back against her bed and reaches for her phone, sending off a quick text.]
no subject
Josie doesn't know if she'd ever be able to do it. To articulate all the feelings that are swimming in the back of her head day after day. Putting words to them makes them real, and sometimes she doesn't want them to be. But the gesture means a lot all the same.
Pulling the journal to her chest, she flops back against her bed and reaches for her phone, sending off a quick text.]
How'd you know I liked yellow?