Dear Diary. No that's just silly.
Dear Maxwell. Who's Maxwell? An imaginary friend, of course. But why Maxwell, and why a man and not a woman? Could I be as open with a woman? Even a fictious woman?
I think it is rather typical that I begin something as simple as a diary with more questions than anything else.
Ok, so here goes.
It has been a good day. Last day of school. Forever! Wooohooo! How I began to hate that place, with its dull, grey walls and uninspiring teachers. Still I got a decent education so they couldn't have been that bad, even Mr Fargot with his vile breath and collection of canes.
Now hopefully a nice hot summer to do some sailing, then off to Bristol with Joe. He says he's got somewhere for us to stay, really cheap, which is good, but something tells me it is going to be a real dive. Joe and his dodgy connections.
I think I'll pop over and suprise Mary tomorrow. I know I said I'd see her on Saturday, but tomorrow seems like a much better idea.
I must be coming down with something. Spontaneity, romantic or otherwise is not normal for me.
Well good-night Diary, Maxwell, or Tallulah, or whatever your name is. Tomorrow and the rest of my days await!
