I journaled, of sorts, though I don't know where those are. I'm sure I still have them somewhere. Kind of took the heart out of it when I caught my mother reading it.
My friend in high school a couple years ago found the notebook we passed back and forth, writing conversations in it. I'm not sure what we wrote. I'll have to have a look at it next time I'm home. She's the only one from my high school years that I still contact, other than my (small) family.
One of my teachers told me it was sad that I don't remember much of my childhood. There just wasn't that much to remember. Mom stayed home with us until my younger brother got in school; she went back to school to get her degree and she took a job to pay for it. I played sports with the neighborhood boys. I don't remember being ravaged by puberty. Mostly I thought for years I was damaged, asexual. That there was something wrong with me. I had a crush on a boy, mostly I think to cover the fact that I didn't really want a boyfriend. I had a boyfriend in high school but he was safely at another school and didn't get in my way much.
My childhood was pretty boring. Hardly worth remembering I think. I'm not sure I'd want to share details with others though, at least on a wholesale basis. Individually maybe.
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Why cycling? Anything [sport] that had to do with a ball, I wasn't very good at.
-Lance Armstrong
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