hi it’s me · 2:26am May 9th
I hate that I have to write this, but I’d really like people to know that I’m not dead.
So I was putting off writing this because I wanted to come in and be like, “hey! I’m gonna give you guys a happy ending!”
Well sometimes things don’t have a happy ending, sometimes they just end and we have to be okay with that.
I’m not graduating on time.
Academically? I’ll be fine. No actually, I will be. I just have to send them a diploma. I wasn’t getting in based on my gpa anyway. I had a good story to tell them and I got a 27 on my AP test.
I guess the implications just kinda hurt. My mom sat me down the other day and tried to talk to me about it. Because apparently I only care about myself. Even spending the last year repenting for my sins wasn’t enough to convince her otherwise.
She told me that someday I’m going to look back and regret my choices. That someday my feelings will change. Instead of being gripped in a profound emotional pain, I’ll be overcome with nostalgia instead. What will I tell my children when they ask about my high school experiences?
This. This goes beyond teen angst. I’m not mad at the system. I’m not sticking it to the man. I am trying, with everything left in me, to keep moving forward with my life.
And you know, I won’t look back on this with nostalgia. I will look back on this and be grateful that I survived.
It’s really funny actually, to have someone looking into your eyes and saying they understand even though you *know* they don’t. And according to her, I shouldn’t even be upset. I’m not bleeding and nobody is dead.
She cried more than I did. Because I remember her saying that to me over a decade ago. Kinda hard to forget. How does it feel to be on the wrong end of your own hypocrisy?
I miss her. I miss B. I miss laying on my back under the stage lights and knowing that I’m one wrong word away from certain doom. Because it meant that I could feel something.
And how does it feel to know that I miss her when I wasted a whole year trying to scrub away her memory?
It feels like wanting to walk across that stage, if only to have one more memory of indulging in my own emotional masochism.
But you know. Life keeps going. I think that’s slightly better than where we started. And maybe that’s good enough.
I’ll be in touch.
Wishing you nothing but the best. :)