in notebook recovery

i've begun the mental recovery of losing my notebook 2days ago. the inclination that it's still somewhere along the canal behind the house haunts me, but just the same i'm trying to take my loss in stride and learn my lesson. the loss is crushing for a variety of reasons and those of you who carry understand what i'm talking about. beyond the facts that i was literally on the last page of the book and that i just had the mind the other day to finally digitise some of the work i'd laid between it's pages; this was the book that travelled europe with me last summer (a huge deal for me) and after filling and filing notebooks for years, suddenly losing 1 feels somehow like i've lost a volume to the chronicles of my life. i am flooded with awful thoughts of someone getting a free look into the pages of my mind; their disgusting hands gripping at the last year of my life, thumbing through my thoughts, smudging my memories, laughing at their own misunderstanding -- i can only hope it got washed away, tucked beneath a rock deep at the bottom of the canal by a gator who recognises its worth, or simply that whomever discovers it disgards it as quickly, trashing it before examining my intellect and judging my invention.