Letters from the Closet
Boy Meets Girl
I destroyed every page of my college journals. There were eight journals in all, two for each year, every empty space within swallowed up by my perfect Catholic school script: a chronicle of my life as a coed. I wasn’t getting rid of evidence exactly (although there was much to incriminate me), but I was starting over, and this was proof I wasn’t that person anymore. I can’t remember if I burned all the pages or simply tore them to shreds to...