Today, I went to a flower shop - it's the first time I have ever set foot in a flower shop - to buy a fern. Now a little, shy fern sits in my window sill, and the only other person who knows my reason for acquiring it, is asking if I'm going to water it or not.

And it brings me back here, to these old archives, because - this fern? It is directly linked to the very same man I first wrote about, here or in the diary that came before it, I don't remember anymore, it's been so many years.

He was the first I ever needed to write about. Seven years later, I still do.

I haven't yet decided if the fern gets to live or die.