Yay, the misery!
Wow. I just found out today how much I really matter in the world.
I had planned a really fun and enjoyable day at the Puyallup Fair with my friends today. I was getting my senior pictures taken, and was running a little later than I had thought. I called Taylor a couple hours earlier to tell her I might be there by six, but wasn't sure if I'd make it. Traffic caused me to arrive about a half hour past that mark.
I had realized while the pictures were going on that I had left my free ticket at home. No big deal, I figured. I'd pay for a ticket rather than take the time to go all the way home and get it. After all, I didn't want to keep my friends waiting.
Imagine that.
Once I had paid the admission and entered the fair, I called Taylor to find out where she was.
"We're at the mall," she told me over the din of fairgoers' voices. "We left already."
I was dumbfounded. "Why didn't you call me and let me know?"
"I wasn't sure you were coming," she explained.
Apparently it wasn't important enough to be certain.
The signal died before anything more could be said. I decided to take off and wander aimlessly rather than waste the fair admission by leaving.
I suppose I should thank her. My head was getting a little big; I'd actually allowed myself to get the idea that I mattered, you see. But it's no big deal. I've grown very used to feeling insignificant, as it happens.
I'm sure you think I'm overreacting, Taylor. You would-- with that warm, fuzzy blanket of friends around you at all hours, I doubt you've ever felt unimportant in your life. But you guys were the first friends I had ever had. Oh, yes, how selfish I am to feel so rejected. Have I no shame?
But I suppose I'm a fool to act so indignant when all I want is an apology. I just hope that's not too much to ask.
I had planned a really fun and enjoyable day at the Puyallup Fair with my friends today. I was getting my senior pictures taken, and was running a little later than I had thought. I called Taylor a couple hours earlier to tell her I might be there by six, but wasn't sure if I'd make it. Traffic caused me to arrive about a half hour past that mark.
I had realized while the pictures were going on that I had left my free ticket at home. No big deal, I figured. I'd pay for a ticket rather than take the time to go all the way home and get it. After all, I didn't want to keep my friends waiting.
Imagine that.
Once I had paid the admission and entered the fair, I called Taylor to find out where she was.
"We're at the mall," she told me over the din of fairgoers' voices. "We left already."
I was dumbfounded. "Why didn't you call me and let me know?"
"I wasn't sure you were coming," she explained.
Apparently it wasn't important enough to be certain.
The signal died before anything more could be said. I decided to take off and wander aimlessly rather than waste the fair admission by leaving.
I suppose I should thank her. My head was getting a little big; I'd actually allowed myself to get the idea that I mattered, you see. But it's no big deal. I've grown very used to feeling insignificant, as it happens.
I'm sure you think I'm overreacting, Taylor. You would-- with that warm, fuzzy blanket of friends around you at all hours, I doubt you've ever felt unimportant in your life. But you guys were the first friends I had ever had. Oh, yes, how selfish I am to feel so rejected. Have I no shame?
But I suppose I'm a fool to act so indignant when all I want is an apology. I just hope that's not too much to ask.