Naomi
First, a little bit about me: job hunting sucks, a lot. I'm waiting to hear from one of the two places I Really want a job at. Unfortunately, these places are notoriously slow at hiring. In the meantime I have a shitty job. But, oh well.
So yeah, I've been worried about money. I hate worrying about money.
But that isn't all that's been on my mind the last couple weeks. Yes, the anxiety attacks have been fun. Ha ha. But I found something else out a few weeks ago that I didn't know how to write about. I still don't know.
I can't explain it, here, in a way that expresses it correctly.
The first girl I fell in love with was Naomi. She did not know I was alive. I was a geek, and she ran with a different crowd. I promised myself I wouldn't sit here and gush about her. Suffice to say, she was amazing in every sense of the word, but honestly, though she ran with the popular crowd, she wasn't all that "popular." Everyone knew her but she couldn't be pinned down as one of the "popular" girls; you know the ones I mean. Naomi was too cool, too nice, to be part of the "popular" ones.
There are days we spent together I remember, that she does not. High School was a long time ago. Last time we talked, I was inviting her over to a gathering I had at my place and she declined. She was the girl I never figured out how to talk to without stuttering or sounding like an idiot.
I did get over her, I mean come on now. But I had hoped we could at least have been friends later on, after all that bullshit was over.
I still have a picture of us from prom. No she wasn't my date, but she posed for a picture with me. Arms wrapped all 'round me, her head on my shoulder. But to my credit, I have no idea where its ended up, as it could be in any number of photo albums either here at my place or back at Mom's, so put those mental images of a Naomi shrine at my place away :)
But I still think about her sometimes. She was a rebel without a cause, how I remember her. A fighter. She ran away from home, senior year. Took the SATs while she was sleeping in people's backyards, because she was having a fight with her step-dad and would NOT go home; she'd have rather lived on the streets for months, and she did.
The day after I got fired from that establishment, I had learned that while hiking with her boyfriend, on a ridge, she was struck by lightning. Now, she's blind.
So yeah, I've been worried about money. I hate worrying about money.
But that isn't all that's been on my mind the last couple weeks. Yes, the anxiety attacks have been fun. Ha ha. But I found something else out a few weeks ago that I didn't know how to write about. I still don't know.
I can't explain it, here, in a way that expresses it correctly.
The first girl I fell in love with was Naomi. She did not know I was alive. I was a geek, and she ran with a different crowd. I promised myself I wouldn't sit here and gush about her. Suffice to say, she was amazing in every sense of the word, but honestly, though she ran with the popular crowd, she wasn't all that "popular." Everyone knew her but she couldn't be pinned down as one of the "popular" girls; you know the ones I mean. Naomi was too cool, too nice, to be part of the "popular" ones.
There are days we spent together I remember, that she does not. High School was a long time ago. Last time we talked, I was inviting her over to a gathering I had at my place and she declined. She was the girl I never figured out how to talk to without stuttering or sounding like an idiot.
I did get over her, I mean come on now. But I had hoped we could at least have been friends later on, after all that bullshit was over.
I still have a picture of us from prom. No she wasn't my date, but she posed for a picture with me. Arms wrapped all 'round me, her head on my shoulder. But to my credit, I have no idea where its ended up, as it could be in any number of photo albums either here at my place or back at Mom's, so put those mental images of a Naomi shrine at my place away :)
But I still think about her sometimes. She was a rebel without a cause, how I remember her. A fighter. She ran away from home, senior year. Took the SATs while she was sleeping in people's backyards, because she was having a fight with her step-dad and would NOT go home; she'd have rather lived on the streets for months, and she did.
The day after I got fired from that establishment, I had learned that while hiking with her boyfriend, on a ridge, she was struck by lightning. Now, she's blind.