She held the small journal in her hands and stared at the binding. It was a dark leather bound journal and by the smell alone you could tell it wasn't faux leather. She riffled the pages within the book, all empty and ready for the beginning of something new. She moved to seat herself down onto a chair and reached for a black fountain pen. With the pen gripped within her right hand, she attempted almost an impossible feat. Writing. It had been difficult gaining the motor skills back with that hand, writing was a frustrating task, but she tried nonetheless.

Dear Jack,

Paris was a total disaster. In part, I think that was my fault for having pushed so hard for us to go. All I wanted to do was to share with you one of my favorite places to visit. I realize now that had been a grave error on my part. What I love, and I adore might not coincide with your interests. I imagine it must not have been an ideal way to spend a week away from work. We are so very different in what we enjoy, and that's okay. We each must have our own likes and interests right?

The next time we do a vacation we will decide together.

There will be another one right?

Secondly. I love you.

Please know that I do, as frustrated as you make me feel, I do very much love you.

If that wasn't a blatant enough hint then allow me to rephrase.

If you leave me, I will hunt you down!

I mean. I LOVE YOU.

I'm kidding about the hunting you down thing though. Maybe.

Third.

The most random thought popped into my head today, and I don't know about you but, have you ever wondered why cheetohs are orange? Of all the colors in the world they had to be orange. Now. You might be wondering why I'm asking this. It occurred to me while I was snacking on the cheetohs you had in your desk. I promise i'll replace them! Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.

So. Orange cheetohs. Would they be cheetohs if they were pink, or blue? I mean if they had the same flavor profile would it still be a cheetoh?

Food for thought. Literally.