First Semester Is Over

[maltegra]

I can't believe it, I'm a second semester senior now.
Every day I'm filled with doubts about what is going to happen to me. I second guess my decisions.
I berate myself over the things that I have done or did not do.

I bake cookies from scratch.

I paint my nails.

I draw across old notes, covering my scrawled writing with doodles of girls dancing in flowing dresses, of sophisticated people laughing gaily at a joke that only they understand, of scenes inspired by Ruben Toledo, of pocket-watch necklaces.

& I dream.
I dream that there is more, that I will grow emotionally, that I will learn and become wiser. That I will accept, that I will learn to love and be loved, that I will learn to trust, that I will learn to be happy.
I dream that my family is not left scarred and broken by this event in the past, that this devastating black secret is not inside me, clawing at me, scratching at my throat, waiting to be let out. That I no longer have to hate myself for keeping promises at the expense of lying.

I hope.

I hope that things will get better.