Janurary 26th, 2014.
Today is my 19th birthday, and I don't usually write journal entries like this, but I feel like this is important to have a record of. It's now been a year and a half since my father's arrest. I'm halfway through my freshman year at University of California: San Diego- they nearly flipped when they saw that I applied, gave me almost a full ride. I guess it's because I'm sort of famous. The trial gained a lot of attention, and interviewers were flocking to me for, well, a while. I've kind of let it pass, but the perks are really nice. For example, since they're paying for most of my tuition, I was able to take the money I'd saved and rent out an apartment. Of course, savings can only take you so far. That's why I've gotten a job already-working retail at one of San Diego's many, many, many shopping centers. It's nothing too flashy, but it's nice enough for the time being. Unfortunately, however, Milo is still living in the dorms. They said it was something to do with him being a Freshman, and my situation being such a unique one…to be honest, I'm calling bullshit on that. But, whatever. He still visits when he can. You know, when we're not both in class, or I'm working, or he's working. We still get to spend a fair amount of time with each other. He's looking into some of the sciences my father used, trying to figure out if they're reversible, or controllable, and all that kind of stuff. I, however, am studying English. I'm thinking about going into teaching, but I'm not sure. Speaking of Milo, I find myself wondering this a lot: I don't know if we're one of those couples that's meant to last forever, but we've tolerated each other for this long, and I think that means something. Anyways, Mom and Micah and Tim are coming into town tonight, and all five of us are going to go out to dinner for my brithsay. Mom's been so much more open since all this ended, and even Micah has loosened up a bit more around me. He, unfortuately, didn't get as lucky as I did on the whole college fund thing, and is going to a community college. There's nothing wrong with that, but he's got bigger dreams than he thinks he can fill there. It seems so strange that we live normal lives; that we function as a (more or less) normal family after everything that's happened. But hey, we make it work.
One last thing before I go: This is the part in all the movies, or books, the main character tells you the villain wasn't really that bad. That's not the case here. My father was- is- a terrible, terrible person. I don't know if it was psychological- well, no, it was psychological- but that's no excuse for his actions. Maybe he was different before, but he's not going to change now. But it's over. He's in jail and I'm living my life.
Milo's at the door. Maybe I'll write again soon.