October 18

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. Perhaps I do know but refuse to admit it. It's not as if I'm short on things to say. I'm not even going to call it a journal because I won't be writing every day. I'm not a writer, at least not one who writes stories. I compose music and occasionally write lyrics. But if it becomes a chore, I won't be able to keep it up.

I've never been particularly good with words.... In my thoughts, I'm continually imagining scenarios and expressing myself through music and lyrics. As a result, Taeyeon's handing me this diary to write in makes me feel like she's punishing me. No, I'm not looking for the word "punishment." It's a little unsettling. That is, in fact, the correct word.

I've been depressed recently, which I thought I was hiding well, but she picked up on it. She is acutely aware of everything.

When she's at home, she cooks me meals, and I enjoy watching her as I wait for my food. I'm sitting at the kitchen table, hungry, as she gracefully cooks... orderly. I'm not one of them. I'm always making a mess.

"What's going on in your mind?" she asked

"Nothing. I was just thinking thoughtlessly, it happens sometimes"

"Writing things down might help Wendy. Keep a record of your thoughts even if they are useless to you."