A journal for the person everyone forgets to ask about.

When you care for someone — a parent fading, a partner ill, a child who needs more than most — every conversation opens with how they're doing. Your half of the story goes largely unasked, and much of it is unsayable anyway: the grief that starts before the loss, the resentment that coexists with love and proves nothing bad about you, the counting of years.

Caregivers are told to journal so often it's become a cliché of the pamphlets. The pamphlets skip the hard requirement: this particular writing needs absolute privacy, because it's about a person you love who might see it, in a house you share, concerning feelings you've never said aloud. A notebook in a drawer isn't private enough. A cloud app is a strange place for the hardest sentences of your life.

The Sealed Journal is a page that can hold it: encrypted with your passphrase before it touches the disk, invisible without it, on your device alone. We won't tell you writing will lighten anything — that isn't ours to promise. We can promise no one will ever read this over your shoulder.