...there was the diary. (Actually quite a long time before as it had stopped by the time I reached 19)
I had the idea the other day that I would dig out my old diary and could perhaps post bits of it on here if there were entries on that particular date by the teenage me. I dug out the diary this morning and suffice to say there won't be any extracts posted here anytime soon. If you think this tends towards rambling and navel-gazing, you should see the diary.
I only had a quick read of a couple of entries, which were consumed by the stresses of a school play, exams, cider-drinking and of course, heavy doses of unrequited love. At the end of one particularly long entry, there was a list of songs that apparently reminded me of some boy. Well, they don't remind me of him that much as it took me about half an hour to even remember who he was and the songs didn't help.
Thankfully I seem to have lost my book of teenage poetry and writings.
Oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry
I didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry
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