Dear Diary,
Has it been over a week since I wrote here last? I wonder how often most people make entries into their treasured diaries. I suppose as long as I need to express myself, and I have this as a medium, then it is often enough.

I could hardly concentrate today at school. My mind is still reeling over two facts. One, that I've now been able to remember parts of a dream after the accident that took my parents from me. The other is what I do and don't remember from that dream. I certainly recall not being alone, now. I was with someone special to me.
I believe that this person had red hair and the eeriest light-colored and reflective eyes. Still, what bothers me is that those details are all I can recall from her personal appearance.

I say "her" because I do recall a soft, very feminine voice say, "I love you, Xander." "Xander" is yet another mystery. Who is this Xander? Maybe I didn't quite catch the name, or the phrase entirely. With the other confused or missing details, I cannot be sure at all.

One thing is certain: I am haunted by the possibilities involved. So much so that the romantic idea has manifested itself as a song to me. I cannot get a feeling for the melody yet, so it may just stay as a poem, instead. So, here it is, collected from scraps of notes that came to me in pieces, as the dream itself seemed to.