she would always be stopping mid-sentence or getting up from the couch to write in her little journal. and at first he would be so confused, and quite frankly a little annoyed, until he knew why she did it and that the pages she wrote were usually filled with poems or stories about him. he was her muse. he usually let her be when it came to writing, knowing he wouldn’t want anyone to read his journal too if he kept one up. but he just couldn’t help himself and one day he would just ask her what she was always doing in there, and she had the courage to show him. he spent all night reading pages upon pages about moments that he didn’t even think twice about, but she found them so special that she had to write about them. this was a regular thing. she would always want to capture how perfect he was in every form, always writing about times they’d shared and sometimes even snapping polaroids or something and sticking them in her journal. some pages were song lyrics or short stories with made up characters but there was a hint of him in everything she wrote. one of his favorite pages would be the time they took a mini holiday to the beach and there, about mid-way through the journal, was a picture of him with the biggest smile on his face standing in front of the ocean, clipped onto a page. along with the picture would be paragraphs about how the wide ocean wasn’t even big enough to hold all the love she had for him and how the sunset was nothing compared to the way his eyes lit up. and there was a long poem on another page about how when she saw his smile it made her forget about all the other smiles in the world because his was just so perfect. there was some kind of writing about your every feature and some sort of journal entry on every passionate kiss you’ve ever shared. coming from anyone else this would all be incredibly cheesy, but because it came from a girl that he loved so much it meant the world. her writing was just more proof that her heart held so much love for him.
