#57: Dear Diary

Describe a personal habit that helps to define you as a person.

My diary entries do not start with "Dear Diary", or at least they don't anymore. I started keeping a diary when I was in sixth grade, and I'm pretty sure the entries in my first diary started of with "dear diary", but my diaries have changed along with me. I started of with a diary, and now, I have four. I would actually have five, but I lost one when I hid it from my best friend. I never found it again. I still have four other diaries, and I can't help but keep so many diaries at once. They all start from different times. White and blue recycled notebooks which I bought in seventh grade, a Japanese print one which I got in eighth grade, and a Mickey Mouse one which I got as a birthday gift in ninth grade. Having so many diaries, I've thought about how useless my old ones are once I've got a new one. I would most probably only write in one of them, and the others would just be a waste of space. Thus, I've tried to write in all of them, once in a while. When I read each diary, I see so many differences between the one person who has written in all of them. My diaries track my progress in life and how I've changed, and my habit of writing in all of them has allowed them to catch up to the me I am right now.

Updating each diary of mine can sometimes be a real hassle, but I have no other option. Writing in them has become a habit for me, and I can't think of ever throwing them away. I find it very hard to get rid of things, because I try and find the importance in each thing that I plan to throw away. I convince myself to not throw things away because I always feel that I might need it in the future. Most of the time, I don't but I like holding onto things. Each one represents a different aspect of me, and they're all memories of how I was before: my likes, my dislikes, my interests, everything. Thus I've found it hard to get rid of my diaries. All of them contain my memories at some point in my life, and I like holding onto these memories.

This habit has extended past my idiosyncrasies into my personality and who I am. Like materialistic things, I don't like letting go of people. I can think of at least one special moment that I've had with each person that has left, and I don't like knowing that these special moments might not ever come again, at least with this person. I hate saying goodbyes, and the moment I've lost someone, I realize how important they were, or they could have been. I regret not spending time with so many people that are not here anymore, and I can't bear to let go of my things, especially because I do have the power and choice to do what I like with them. Unfortunately, I can't control people and when they leave.

Each entry in each diary is special and different, just like the people I meet. The idea of throwing away even one makes me feel like I'm losing something that makes me who I am. With these feelings, I know I won't let go of any of my diaries ever, or at least not now.