Mar 27, 2013 23:30
My national team won and the moment I saw that ball stretch the net, I jumped with my fists raised. We kept longballing even when there's nobody up front and Phil Younghusband's goal wasn't really a show of great play but with football, a goal is a goal. Of course, this contributed greatly to the otherwise disastrous day, disasters that I attribute to the 350-item exam and the class elections where I am thinking that even if I ticked a different blank it wouldn't have made a difference, and these are one of the times when I understand the people who don't even vote anymore and it's doing nothing but fuel my misanthropy, but that's not the case here. (And MCR split up, what the fuck?)
I'm not going to lie and say that what followed after the game didn't make me inwardly smile the whole time. I'm not going to lie that the gesture might have only been done to not seem as rude as he had been to me the past few months. But, yes, it made my day, because apparently we could still hold decent conversations and sit next to each other in peace and while actually exchanging words. Still, let me live in my fantasies for a while and think that that maybe we could rebuild bridges. And, yes, I realize that this makes me sound like some sort of hopeless romantic. And with my recently heightened hatred for the culture I am in, I don't know if this is a welcome thought or not.
because apparently i am dramatic