Dearest Diary,
I'm in the running for the Pulitzer Prize 2029 as far as I've been made aware. It's given to those who have achieved excellence in, in my case, literature.
I'm not sure this little old diary is actually even worth all that, but everyone else seems to think so.
The money prize isn't really even something I'm thinking about. I'm just hoping that people read my story and get something from it, you know?
I guess by the time this is being read, it'll be known if I actually won. Strange how that is, huh?
Oh, so, anyway, I suppose this is considered an authors note, or an epilogue at the very least, because I don't know how much of an actual author I would truly consider myself to be.
It's strange for me to have to write in another pad or book or on new paper that wasn't produced in the 1920s in order to keep a modern diary, but I think this chapter of my life is over. I needed to move on somehow, and starting a new diary is the only way.
I don't doubt this new one will be filled with adventures, though I'm certain it will be a Hell of a lot more boring- and by a landslide!
Anyway, if you're even reading this, that means I got to you! That's great because that was my goal in publishing my diary.
I wanted to publish it because, not only did people need to know Captain America's true life story, but also because I knew there'd be people out there that needed it. People who were like me, perhaps, when I was young and dreamed of a life like the one I have now.
I struggled in coming out to my mom, as I'm sure you read, but when we finally went back in time and told her, it wasn't nearly as terrible as I expected it to be. As a matter of fact, she already knew and was completely supportive!
I'm well aware that it won't be like that for everyone, but that's another reason I published my diary. If you need a solace or somewhere to turn to for a similar experience in terms of who you love and how you feel, it's there for you.
I've also been told by the publisher that there's meaningful lessons about truth and honesty and being who you truly feel you are and... never giving up, especially on true love once you've found it, no matter how hard the fight gets. I suppose all that's true, too.
I'm sure none of you reading my diary are heroes in the same sense that I am - mutated, experimented on, a derivative of what I grew up as, someone who literally held the fate of the world in their hands - but you're certainly a hero in your own right, and I really hope you see that!
It takes all kinds of people to make heroes.
I've always said that my faith is in people, and I've never stopped believing that for a second, because maybe we are inherently good. Maybe we do want to simply help one another for the sake of it. Maybe there is hope out there for a better world because of it.
And, if you're not open about being who you are, whatever or whoever that may be, that's okay too; you can still be a hero that way. You're your own hero for standing your ground and waiting for the right time. Soon, I hope to see a world where being who you are isn't frowned upon by anyone, because then, we'll all love one another as we truly were meant to be. Doesn't that sound great?
That's why it was so important that I published the completely unedited version of my story- it's as true to self, first-person and unaltered as I think an autobiography can get and I figured, if someone's going to tell my story, it might as well be someone who actually knows how everything happened, with no filter.
I was afraid for my friends to see who I was beyond everything I was expected to be. Sure, I was Steve Rogers, I was Captain America, but I wasn't the guy Bucky saw me as to everyone else. I wasn't ever really myself until the end. Reading it all back, it's pretty evident, too.
I don't want anyone to feel like that, even though I know it's unavoidable sometimes.
It was originally Bucky's idea to publish it, and it was the first thing he said after I told him I'd kept a diary all these years.
A diary? he'd asked. I have one too, though I'm not sure how organized or interesting it is. How long have you been keeping it? he'd wondered.
Since the early '30s, I had answered.
Steve, that's incredible. You really wrote down everything you've been through since the beginning of anything, huh? he'd made sure.
Yea, actually, I had confirmed.
You should publish it.
What? I had been surprised at the idea.
No, really, he had went on. I'm sure there's a whole lot of people out there who would love to hear your first person, real-life story.
And the rest was history. I really went all in.
I even talked to him about publishing his diary, so we'll see how that one pans out...
Anyway, I picked the date Monday, January 1, 2029 for a reason, if it's not obvious enough already. This was the exact day I started my diary, just 95 years ago... seeing as it's not 1934 anymore.
Anyway, I guess this is it, huh? The last few words.
It's almost sad to write them down.
To think them, even.
I don't want it to be over yet. This can't be the end of the story, and it certainly isn't... the future just isn't as certain as I thought it would be. It's not heading anywhere specific or leaning any which way. I suppose it's good to have a rest from all that structure I worked through all my life, but I sure will miss it.
I'll miss the journeys we went on.
The moments we created.
The places we explored.
The feelings we forged.
The breaths we took.
The people we met.
The days we made.
The ideas we had.
The way we were.
~ Steven Grant Rogers-Barnes