Book stores and pens

After two hours and selecting 8 novels I realized I hadn't picked up a single gift for anyone at the book store last night. So I headed off to the journal corner to pick up one for a gift. The funny thing is the thing I am most excited about getting was the one thing I keep telling people I don't want; another journal. I think I figured out why I'm excited and why I don't want one from someone else.
Journals are supposed to suit the person who's writing them. Journals I've received from other people suit them or suit their idea of me but they don't quite hit the mark. The one I picked up last night, soft green leather, with an imprinted Celtic cross, is me to a tee. The modern art stained glass journal I received when I was 21 was too much of a mess, the flower print I received when I was 19 was too large and imposing.
The last time I bought a journal for my self was the summer after my senior year, I was 18. I stared at a copy of that exact journal -one journal I never thought I'd see again- and, although I was on the phone with a friend, I gasped, stopped, and lost myself in the emotion I poured into that book. I was faced with the worst question. Do I buy a copy of that journal (the original was filled and then destroyed -burned, I believe- at least three years ago) and rewrite the year I want so badly to forget? Do I rewrite it with renewed perspective? Or - possibly the healthiest alternative - do I leave the journal I loved for one that I'll love now and write myself away from the past and in to my future? I must have asked the question aloud because my friend answered. "Get a new one. Move on. I'm trying to move on too. We don't need to relive that... again."
So I've got a new green leather journal. It's nice, but approachable. It suits me. I got my friend a journal too. It's striped, and more casual. It suits her. Hopefully, it suits all of her and not just my perception of her, but chances are when she finds the journal section of her book store she'll find one better.
 
My Heart - Paramore
I am finding out that maybe I was wrong/ That I've fallen down and I can't do this alone/ Stay with me/ This is what I need please
Sing us a song and we'll sing it back to you/ We could sing our own but what would it be without you
I am nothing now/ and it's been so long/ since I've heard a sound, the sound of my only hope/ This time I will be listening.
Sing us a song and we'll sing it back to you/ We could sing our own but what would it be without you
This heart, it beats it beats for only you/ This heart it beats, beats for only you. /This heart it beats, beats for only you./ My heart is yours. /This heart it beats, beats for only you./ My heart is yours.