Dear Diary,

     It's scary, how fast your life can change. How fast you can lose the things most important to you. It's also frightening how those things that you try and hold onto the most are always the things that you lose. It's always like that. And I can't say that I can bear it any longer.

     I woke up this morning with a bright anticipation of the day ahead, the kind that a child has every second of his young life. Playful, ambitious, full of excitement at the wonders that I felt would be revealed to me. Determined not to let this feeling go, I left my apartment to grab a cup of coffee, not forgetting to put on my aged, russet jacket before leaving.

     I was outside and it was wonderful. The sun's light was just rising over the horizon, brilliant rays of deep-red light enveloping the sky around me. It was chilly, as it always is in winter, but the cold air greeted me pleasantly. I hurried down my front steps, blissfully unaware today of my apartment's plain, dirt-sodden bricks. No, everything seemed perfect today.

     The morning passed by in a flash, my normally tedious job as editor of a local newspaper flying by. I was filled with a fervent joy, a constant feeling of well-being and blind happiness washing over me in a swift deluge of raw blissfulness. And all because of the small lump that was lying unceremoniously in the worn pocket of my tattered jacket.

     I waited until that afternoon to pull it out, holding it tentatively in my fingers. The small, square box seemed almost to mock me with its simplicity, and yet I knew that it held in it a far deeper message of emotion and passion than anything I could express. It held a message of true, faithful love.

I trembled, standing outside in the cold wind and icy air, and finally let myself open it for the first time today. I had looked at it, fondled it, embraced it in my hands many times before, but today I had held off looking at it. Until now. Now I took it out, holding the small diamond ring in the palm of my hand reverently, glowing with admiration at how much it meant to me.

     Today was the day, the day I had decided upon so many weeks ago. Back when I had first went into the jewelry shop and finally spent all the money I had saved up to buy the ring. It had been well worth it, for nothing meant more to me than my love.

     I had been dating Julia for two years now, starting in my last year of college and now here, in New York City , where I was currently working for one of the lower-class magazines of the magnificent city. She was a classy girl; modest and humble in her appearance and yet so lively and outgoing that one could not help but like her. Her smile meant the world to me, and I would do anything to keep that smile on her face. That is how I knew I loved her.

      It is hard for me to continue speaking of her in light of present events, however I will try and press on, knowing that only by writing this can I hope to sort out the confusion that fills my mind. As I was saying, I looked at that ring with the blind hope of a captivated man, and finally started to head towards the park. It was about time, and frankly, I had no desire to be late.

     "7:30," I thought assuredly, as I paced nervously in front of the old, wooden park bench a half hour later. "I'm sure I told her 7:30." My heart began to thump heavily with dreadful anticipation. What was wrong? What would keep her away from me, especially on this night that I had dreamt about for so long? Then my anger started to rise. It seemed dreadfully ironic that the one night that meant so much to me was slowly fading away.

      I pulled out my cell phone resolutely, and started to dial Julia's number. I would get an explanation from her yet, I thought, as I punched away at the keys angrily. I waited, and waited, as the phone started up and finally started to dial. One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings...I sighed and stopped the call. She wasn't answering her phone. Images, ideas, imaginings filled my mind as I tried to think of what on earth she could be doing. Suddenly a noise coming from behind me filled my ears and my anger began to melt into fear. A siren. An ambulance.

     I turned around, my heart pounding. It's nothing, it's nothing, a small part of me said, but a louder voice was urging me to follow the ambulance, to ease my worries and concerns. I started to run, trailing behind as I saw the ambulance pull up towards the other side of the park. The southern entrance...

     I realized its implications immediately and ran even harder, sweat starting to form on my face and my lungs pleading for air. Julia's apartment was in that direction and if anything had happened to her...No, nothing could happen. How could something happen today, on the first night of spending our whole lives together?

     I was nearing the site of the accident now, a car accident. A ford lay on its side to my left, while a few feet ahead was a small jeep. Julia's jeep. I couldn't believe it, and started to back away. "No, no," I muttered, my feet giving way beneath me. Four paramedics walked by, carrying a stretcher. And in the stretcher was...a woman...Julia. No, not Julia...I gasped dreadfully, air leaving me as I watched in horror. I fainted, falling silently in the soft grass.

And now, writing this, I don't know if she will make it or not. I am afraid.