strangeness & charm.

I came to school today to find out that my friend got charged with drug possession this weekend. His friends were smoking and he wasn’t, and he tried to hide the weed for them, and he got charged and his friends just got to walk away. That’s not fair. Yes, he was being stupid, but it’s still just not right. I’m so disappointed.

“I got a 594 on my English writing SOL!”

“Oh, cool. I got a 600.”

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck you a million times over. You always have to be better than me and I hate it. I was in such a good mood and my teacher seemed really proud of me when she showed me my score and told me I did a good job and I had one of the highest scores in the class, but of course, you had to have the best. I’m sick of this.

“That math test was so hard!”

“You’re lying. It was sooooo easy.”

“I think I’m going to fail math this year.”

“No you won’t! Only stupid people fail.”

Goddamn.

I totally bombed my SOL. Ugh. And my two Chemistry tests.

I have two AP review sessions tomorrow and I am SO scared for these exams.

At the last open mic at school yesterday, Isabelle and Ted asked me if I wanted to come with them to gay prom. I wanted to say yes so badly, but I had to tell them I was busy. But now I’m regretting it so much, because I really want to go. But I really should be studying instead… all it would be is a few hours, an old formal dress, and some new friends, right?

I wish I could go so much.

We were talking about our favorite writers and poets, and then he said this:

“Man, Bukowski’s legit!”

… M A R R Y   M E .

…which one of you little bastards was the one who either talked to him or showed him what I wrote about him?

I’m bound to find out eventually.

(thank you so much)

We saw that concert last year, the last time we talked was my birthday, and now this is happening on yours?

What is the odd significance?

(I am still trying to think and I cannot bring myself to reply to his message oh my god I am so nervous I will probably say something stupid and screw this all up)

(why am I liveblogging my emotions?)

He apologized. The most sincere and kind apology I’ve ever read from anyone. I don’t know why he did though, because it’s certainly not his fault… I’ve just been a crybaby and a bitch and completely irrational and it’s definitely all been my fault. But I’ve been here sobbing my eyes out at the kitchen counter for the past few minutes, just staring at what he’s said. 

What can I ever say back to him? I have absolutely no idea what to do now. 

(I’m blogging as I think just to figure things out, don’t ask me why. It just works.)

It’s been exactly a year since you took me to see that concert. It’s been a year since our last date. It’s been a year since things began to turn bad and go downhill. 

God fucking damn it, I feel awful. And it’s all my fault.

My friend picked me up and drove me to meet another friend for dinner and we shared a meal and talked about school and boys and life. Then we drove (a bit illegally, shh) to see our friends perform in a play, which happened to be Monty Python’s Spam-a-lot, and laughed and laughed until we couldn’t breathe. Then at the finale, we ran up on stage and hugged everyone and ran around the unfamiliar school hallways and ran through the parking lot and drove to her boyfriend’s house. We hid upstairs in his room with Scott and attacked him with swords from the play when he arrived. We hung out and ate food and played video games and teased eachother and even held people down so we could destroy their social media profiles, then went outside under the wide, twinkling sky and ran through the grass and said goodbye before driving home. We listened to music and tensed up a bit each time we passed by cops due to the late hour we were driving at. But when I was safely back home, I crept through the back door and silently tiptoed to my room, trying not to wake my sleeping family.

Tonight was lovely and I am so happy to have the friends that I have, whether we go to school together or not. I’m just so fortunate to know these amazing people.

I just found out today that one of my friends is in rehab. I’m hoping she’ll get better, but I doubt it. And that’s unfortunate and it scares me. She’s already in so deep and I don’t know if she’ll get better. She doesn’t listen to anyone. But I miss her. 

If there’s anything that bothers me, it’s how people assume that someone in rehab or addicted to drugs or alcohol must be a bad person. My friend is a wonderful person, she just fell into the wrong crowd, and I can’t blame her for that at all. There weren’t a lot of options for friends in sixth grade at our school, and once you’re in with that group, you can’t really get out. But she’s funny and caring and kind and creative and brilliant and I love her and miss her.

I can’t wait for her to come back home so I can give her a massive hug.