Is it cold to just want it to be over?

I mean, really. Sometimes it's just too much. I just this to all end, you know? I wish that I could make it all go away.

I just realized it sounds like I'm contemplating suicide. So let me try again. All my problems sum themselves up wonderfully in one horrifying little word.


Ok, so the parents? I think its official. I can label them the most unsupportive people EVER. I have two things I love: writing and theatre. And I'm desperately trying to keep up with my studies while trying to participate in activities that involve these two things, as well as keep my grades up. Which is kind of getting draggy as far as the grades are concerned. But I mean, I've fully started getting better. Like, I hit an all-time low last year by getting my first D. That sucked, right? So I started working on my grades, and they didn't shoot up or anything. Though I got a B in the same class the next quarter, if I want to brag a little. Which I do. The thing is, the fact that I pulled my grades up to honor-roll status, earning a wonderful 3.47, thank you very much, really did not impress my parents. My dad's exact words were, "Your grades went from being in the gutter to being horrible. Good job."


Then I got bronchitis, and missed one third of my last quarter, and of course my GPA took a swan dive not unlike Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis in "Thelma and Louis." Which just got my parents madder. I mean, my grades just went to what they used to be before I made that huge effort and got on the honor roll. But it's like they were actually madder than when they had been there before. They think it proves that I can put effort into my work and get better grades, so obviously I didn't try hard enough this time.

No, honey. It actually proves that I had a fever of 103 and spent fifteen days of my last quarter puking. Same difference, right?

And then friends. Don't get me started on friends. My old ones? Crap. It's like I spent five years in this bored stupor. Then sometime last year, it's like I woke up and said, "Hey. This people are damn boring. And mean. Why do I like them? Oh. I don't. Ok then." And literally, that day, I went and found some better ones. Friends, I mean. That didn't make fun of people. Well, they did. But not in a mean way. More of a "You said something stupid, and you're laughing at it, so I can laugh at it" sort of way. Versus the "Your clothes are ugly and your hair sticks out funny; I'm going to mock you know" way my old friends used to.

Let me tell you something about ditching friends you've had for five years. Make clean breaks. Yes, you may be afraid of what they'll say because, well, they're really mean, and you've seen them be horrible to other people, so you really don't want to screw with them. I'm a strong, independent female who doesn't care what others say about her all, but come on – frankly, who needs that kind of aggravation? But here's the thing – if you don't make a clean break, you're stuck in limbo. Limbo is a very bad place to be. Are you friends? Are you not? Do you wave to them in the halls? Do you invite them places? If they invite you somewhere, should you go? As you can see, these aren't really clear-cut questions. And the worst of them all is this: If you come into a class at the beginning of the semester and you don't know anyone in the class but them, should you sit by them or try to make friends with the weird goth kid in the back who smiling at the wall for no reason and kinda creeps you out?

I should've gone for the weird goth, let me tell you.

See, there were two friends in this one class. Two friends from my old group, of course, not two new friends. And these two friends are sitting so one's behind the other. I sat in front of one of them. Let's call her Julie. The one sitting behind her is Kara. Now this whole awkward relationship thing is given two different takes by these two different old friends. See, Julie is still perfectly friendly to me. Kara, however, is not. This creates a problem. Because Julie, lovely, friendly Julie, is trying to be nice to both me and Kara. This requires her to spin back and forth between me and Kara. Quite a bit. Which is really uncomfortable for her. And it makes me feel really guilty, because it's partially my fault. I mean, I can't take all the credit. They did kind of kick me out by calling someone they knew I was friends with a boring little bitch right in front of me, and worse, right in front of her. I'm actually quite proud I didn't slap them. But apparently, I'm not the smacking type. I'm more the avoidance type. Which kind of disappoints me, but whatever. The point is, I'm feeling kind of guilty and acting really sheepish when Julie is forced to carry on two conversations at once. Though I feel kind of annoyed at the same time because Kara keeps throwing these dirty looks at me over Julie's shoulder, and whispering things about me to Julie that she thinks I can't hear (Dude, I'm ten feet away!), which just makes Julie look sadder then she already did from not being able to get her two friends to talk.

You see what I mean about the weird goth kid? Totally preferable. I mean, if she was as weird as she looked, I could've spent class reading. Or writing. Which is not a bad way to spend a class period, if you think about it.

Add all this to homework, daily drama practices that go to like eleven, singing lessons, flute lessons, dancing, acting, church activities that my parents force me to, and trying to keep up with two ongoing fanfic stories, I'm amazed I'm not insane by now.

So we come to what it is I want over. I want high school to be over. Why? Read the above. I've become convinced that anyone, like my sister, who liked high school must have been, like my sister, beautiful, popular, and brilliant. Oh, and athletically gifted, though that may not be a necessity. Really, college is the bright spot on my horizon. Though with my grades from last quarter, thanks to my wonderful viral lung disease, I'm hardly a shoe-in for any of my top schools. Or my second choices either. And it's only a year and half more before I can get to the third choice college that probably won't even have the major I want.


So they always say in creative writing to write what you know. So I did. This is all I know, and can handle right now. Tell me, is this really what people want to hear? Because I think they already know.