(no subject)
Sometimes, actually very often, I think about last year, and I remember how much I miss it. I miss this past summer, and I miss sophomore year. I miss so much hanging out at nooshas everyday after school, and making tea and spending the weekends over there.
I miss Chelseys dads house, and South haven. I miss how at the beginning of summer when Liz came over to chelseys house and morgan came over and we stole the golfcart and drove around late at night in the neighborhood.
I miss going to nooshas and taking out all her clothes and listening to spice girls and putting on makeup, and being friends with Sam. Not like I would ever be friends with him EVER again, but when we were, until he was crazy, it was fun.
I MISS SAM TABOO.
God i miss that. I miss everything. I want things to go back to the way they were. Not like anythings wrong with things are now, because when I do get to hang out with my ladies it is so much fun, but I wish it were like last year when I could go and hang out everyday until late at night, and spend the weekend with my girls.
Ladies- This summer, we need to slip-n-slide and hang out more, and steal golfcarts and have tea parties.
Also, I miss the feeling of getting butterflies, and feeling excited to see someone. I miss being nervous about a kiss and a phone call. I miss lying on top of the car looking at the stars, and spending the day at the beach.
I miss feeling special.
Things get so confusing. I hate how this medicine, on my final month of it, makes me so crazy. It makes me get so mad about things.
I want to confront people about how I feel, but I don't and I hold it in. That is why I miss last year/summer, because that was I time when I didn't ever have to confront people when I was mad at them, because I never was.
And it aggravates me so much when I feel I am not interesting. When I tell a story, or talk, and all people can do is go "oh that reminds me of..." Why can't you ever comment on what I am telling you. Why do you always have to go on to your story, and totally dismiss mine. Why can't people ever ask me how things were, or what I did. Or when they do, to at least sound INTERESTED.
That is why when people tell me a story, I LISTEN, I ask questions, I make comments, because I hate it so much when you feel like you are talking to air.
I am so sick of talking to air.
I miss Chelseys dads house, and South haven. I miss how at the beginning of summer when Liz came over to chelseys house and morgan came over and we stole the golfcart and drove around late at night in the neighborhood.
I miss going to nooshas and taking out all her clothes and listening to spice girls and putting on makeup, and being friends with Sam. Not like I would ever be friends with him EVER again, but when we were, until he was crazy, it was fun.
I MISS SAM TABOO.
God i miss that. I miss everything. I want things to go back to the way they were. Not like anythings wrong with things are now, because when I do get to hang out with my ladies it is so much fun, but I wish it were like last year when I could go and hang out everyday until late at night, and spend the weekend with my girls.
Ladies- This summer, we need to slip-n-slide and hang out more, and steal golfcarts and have tea parties.
Also, I miss the feeling of getting butterflies, and feeling excited to see someone. I miss being nervous about a kiss and a phone call. I miss lying on top of the car looking at the stars, and spending the day at the beach.
I miss feeling special.
Things get so confusing. I hate how this medicine, on my final month of it, makes me so crazy. It makes me get so mad about things.
I want to confront people about how I feel, but I don't and I hold it in. That is why I miss last year/summer, because that was I time when I didn't ever have to confront people when I was mad at them, because I never was.
And it aggravates me so much when I feel I am not interesting. When I tell a story, or talk, and all people can do is go "oh that reminds me of..." Why can't you ever comment on what I am telling you. Why do you always have to go on to your story, and totally dismiss mine. Why can't people ever ask me how things were, or what I did. Or when they do, to at least sound INTERESTED.
That is why when people tell me a story, I LISTEN, I ask questions, I make comments, because I hate it so much when you feel like you are talking to air.
I am so sick of talking to air.