I'm proud of myself for not checking his file in the past month or two. It means I'm not dwelling too much...
But yesterday at lunch, Cameron and I started talking about him. I nearly cried. I just wanted to cry and at the same time be defiant not show my tears because I had picked my own fate. I really wish I did cry, though. It'd be nice to just let out all the questioning thought and self-hatred still burning inside through useless water. I can't complain, though. I did this to him and myself... so I'm not too surprised that I feel this way. While I still care about how he is, I am not madly in love or in any love other than that strange "love" shared between friends who never communicate. At least I'm sort of gaining back my dignity for my actions...
I think I'll get another drink and. with Wombat, will toast to the past... good, bad, learning moments, and June 17th of 8th grade.
haloisbymyhorns · Tue Mar 06, 2007 @ 11:29am · 0 Comments |