Maybe

I was always a little jealous of the girls that kept diaries growing up. I thought that they could always find bits of their own history in them while I would probably forget most of it at some point. I was right, I did forget lots of things.

Yesterday, I saw a picture of my cousin, Stephanie. I think she was 5 the last time I saw her and I think she's 17 now. It's been a while. We don't even really talk. She looked all grown up in the picture. I only had this image of her as a little kid and whatever happened in the middle got lost in translation.

I cannot remember much of us being little. And I really wanted to. I wanted to think that we were family and acted as such once. Maybe I was too little. Maybe I should have kept a diary.