Chloe Vollenhoven Journal

I’m not always sure how to begin these journal entries.

Dear diary – too formal..

Nope. I’m just going to keep writing with wild abandon because, if it’s not broken why fix it. I’m only thinking about it because I spoke to a friend and she said writes to someone named Vodka. I haven’t written anything about Charlie. Mostly because there’s nothing to write about but also because I’ve just not felt like reminding my future self of all the bad things.

Dear future Chloe, I hope that when you read this you’ll remember how pathetic you are and you’ll laugh out loud while surrounded by your bodyguards because you are the youngest president in the history of forever, like the queen of England and you rock.

It’s my birthday.

I’m spending it with gran. She took me shopping for a gift and must have been wildly surprised when all I wanted was a biker jacket and books from the hottest YA reads for 2017. I feel like I need to start over again. Focus on my hobbies and my future and perhaps make a friend or two.

Can’t stop thinking about Grace and Priya. Last year we were enjoying the greatest party of the year and this year… well! I’ve got a plan. I know of someone in the old circle having a party tonight and I’m going to gatecrash and I’m taking Charlie with me. I know I shouldn’t drink on my antidepressants but I feel like letting loose and just being a teenage girl for this one night of my birthday. I definitely didn’t want to sit home or around a stuffy table with my parents trying to figure out whether they’ve said the wrong thing when I sigh or think too long. Watching them walk on eggshells around me like I’m fragile is causing me anxiety.

Mention the word anxiety and dad gets into a huff and mom is right by my side like I’ll collapse at any minute.  Gran is really the only one who still treats me like a normal person. Jack … he still doesn’t really talk to me and I miss him. I miss my little brother so very much. I wish I’d thought more about him before I’d been such a cow. I hate myself.

Charlie doesn’t know about … stuff. How do you tell a stranger that the only control you have over your life is a disease called anorexia? Although, it’s not as bad as that. I’m just fanatic. I was fanatic. You can exercise too much and eat too little. That’s a thing too. Didn’t know it would be such a huge thing though.

It’s my birthday. A year ago my life was perfect. A year ago it was the beginning of him and the end of me. Tonight a year ago I was the happiest girl in the world. Also slightly delirious from fever with my appendix bursting or something like that.

But tonight, a year later exactly, I’m going to be drunk as a skunk!


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