03.03.02-10:19 p.m.>

For my 12th birthday I had a sleepover...one of my friends bought me a copy of a book that through time would stand to be one of my most prized posessions.

That book was Harriet the Spy. I'd never read a book like this one before. She had a notebook. I had a notebook !! She wanted to be a writer. I wanted to be a writer !!! She was very intelligent,and mildly bossy,extremely imaginative,and kind of lost and angry in some senses.(Which I guess I didnt recognize at the time.) Whenever Im uneasy, I pick up this book and read it. I read it on my plane ride to Las Vegas. I throw it in my bag and read it on the train to the city. Between Classes, and even if I cant sleep at night. If I need a break from life, I pick up this book.

Thats just the way its been forever.

My name is scrawled in sloppy penciled script on the back of the front cover.

"PROPERTY OF MELISSA H. MEE"

Well it was scrawled...

I guess its years of usage have finally caught up with it. Today I picked it up off of my floor,and it slipped out of my hands and in an attempt to save it I grabbed it by the cover and the book fell to the floor and the cover well the cover stayed in my hand. My heart sank and I sat on my bed holding two peices of a book that has touched my heart, and help make me who I am.

Is this like a metaphor for something God ?

Today is a sad sad day.