You were undoubtedly inspired to start a diary by one of the great diarists from history...
You started out with one of those diaries with a padlock but you learned from your mistake when you lost the key and had to pick the lock.
So you found the perfect hiding place for your diary instead.
You lived in perpetual fear of your parents reading your innermost thoughts.
The sense of terror when someone tried to read over your shoulder was second to none.
You remember the indescribable pain of your diary being stolen from your rucksack and passed around the coach on the way back from some dismal school trip.
Despite all this, you harboured a secret fantasy that your diary would be published posthumously, making you the voice of a generation.
Still, you worried about how people would feel if they saw what you'd written about them.
And the thought of your crush finding out about all the wish fulfilment fiction you wrote about them filled you with dread.
So you destroyed all the evidence.
And immediately regret it.
But you know that when it comes down to it, you just can't quit journaling.
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