24
Faithful Diary,
Sometime yesterday afternoon, I awoke to the dreamlike sensation of hands in my hair. It reminded me of the many nights Elle and I spent together, early on in our friendship, when we would listen to music and talk about the people we held in low esteem and those who inspired raw jealousy in our hearts. Oftentimes, I would sit on the floor and Elle would lie on the bed, and she'd trace her fingernails across my scalp.
Never in my life had I felt so relaxed.
Never in my life had I felt so at home.
Elle was my home.
Elle was home.
I rolled over in bed and blinked my bleary eyes. The day was grey outside, with strikingly little light coming through the window. In the darkness of my bedroom, Elle's eyes sparkled as she smiled upon me.
“Am I dreaming?” I asked her.
