February 16th

Dear Diary,

Forgive me, oh sweet, sweet thing, forgive me! I have been remiss in my upkeep of this space. I let almost five days go past with not a single word written down! I am a pathetic being. I beg of you, forgive!

My work and the Butterfly Menagerie is going quite swimmingly. As I alluded to in a previous entry, something has indeed caught my eye and lifts my soul on the gentle wings of our colorful friends. Yes, whenever I see her walk into our delightful atrium of humidity (for the butterflies, of course. They must enjoy the climate they are in) I feel as those everything I am escapes in a single breath and floats on into the sky. In her little pith helmet, her cargo shorts, the khaki, pocketed shirt with the sleeves rolled up, True, it's the same outfit as mine, they are uniforms, but it puts me in a dizzy.

You see, I was performing my morning duties admirably, scraping the crusted butterfly leavings off the lower branches of some of the flora, when I heard a chorus of angels singing. "Hello," she said. I turned and saw the most beautiful creature God had ever made, then placed in a faux safari outfit. "I think that would be easier if you used this." She handed me a sharp tool, and I handed her my heart. Well not literally, that would be messy, but I am sure you understand. I took the tool. It worked much better than the un sharpened pencil I was using.

"My name," I wheezed, "My name is Colin, Colin J. Horriburt." She gave a small smile, the corners of her mouth lifting, and bringing my soul out of every dark memory with it.

"Hello, Colin," she replied. "My name is Charlotte, Charlotte Rosemary."
My memory, since that moment, has only been a blur, hence my lack of updates. Only the future is before me now, and a future I hope to share with the time stopping Charlotte Rosemary.

Ever yours in ink,
Colin J. Horriburt