Dearest Diary,
Again I have been absent from you these past weeks. It has not been without sorrow, but I have recommenced considering the disolution of our partnership. It is perhaps clear that my concerted efforts might be brought to better success if applied elsewhere. I cannot be certain, but it is possible that our friendship has run its course.
What if I were to tell you that at long last, the subject of our choosing has been satisfied? That in the days and weeks leading up to and following that joyous Christmas holiday, a gift of a different nature has been left 'neath my tree. I cannot credit Father Christmas with the arrangement nor can I declare its existence. But I could remit that I have found the gentleman I have only imagined could exist. He has captured me within the bredth of an hour and has vowed to care for me for as long as we both shall live. You might protest with the notion that time has not allowed for sincerity in the matter and perhaps you might be right. But I should just as soon dismiss your protests with the assurance of my left hand. No matter the diminutive engagement, we are forever allied together. And I shall not trifle with you a moment more about it.
Were it all to be true, would you let me depart from your company? Would you wish me well and go forth in Happiness? Can you deny that we have confided chiefly of love, and at its discovery would have little left to say to one another?
And while the above is quite obviously a falsehood, could we bid farewell and assume it to be true? These are questions I am not prepared to answer for they have plagued me for a fortnight. I have very little to add to our conversation, but you have been such a friend even in silence. The commencement of a new year begs the question of what changes one ought to make and I wonder at whether this demise is welcome. I cannot decide. Perhaps I shall know on the morrow...
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