I've lost a bit of my way since...April, since apparently that was the last time I posted anything up here. So to get everything up to speed, after April, I took the AP Lit exam in May. I haven't even checked how I did on it, since I'm that sure I flunked it. It's not that I'm inept in English class, I just seemed to be inept at trying at that point. Which bites, because I paid eighty bucks to take the damn thing. Then there was no senior trip, because the student body was a collective personification of randomness. We did, however, manage to get our act together for prom.
My prom experience was not so great. I spent about eight hours getting primped because I thought I needed one night to be beautiful. I looked perfect, don't get me wrong; there are no better pictures of me than my prom pictures. But when I finally got there, I was early and I waited with a teacher for my friends to get there. When my friends did get there, we seemed to be at a lull. What were we all doing? We'd all seen the after school specials and the TV and rom-coms versions of this night. There was drama and broken rules and cliches abundant. None of that at ours. Half of them left early because they just seemed mad at each other. The half I hung out with I was guilted into hanging out with and then regretted it, because apparently after prom was code for let's-talk-sh*t about-what-people-did-at-prom.
Because what the hell did I get all dressed up for anyway? I had no date, not that I needed one, or so I proclaimed. It didn't matter. The only guy I wanted to impress wouldn't dance with me and was ignoring me.
Not that that didn't change, a few days later. He started doing the opposite of ignoring me and I loved it. And the following week at graduation, my grandmother gave him the biggest death stare, silently wondering why I couldn't find a nice Filipino boy. I guess she thought I would break my parents' multiracial stigma. She was so overly traditional, snobby, and racist. But I'm getting away from the point.
Graduation lasted three hours for a class they had about sixty names they had to call onto stage. They turned it into a damn concert and had extra extra speeches. My class valedictorian ended his speech with "May the force be with you." Had I not been under an influence and had it not been the last day we would deal with these people, I might have stuck around to protect him from getting his ass kicked. But nobody who would have kicked his ass was graduating with us, so it really didn't matter.
I spent my summer doing sixty hours a week doing three different jobs. Nope, sorry, that was inaccurate. Four jobs, including trying to be the best girlfriend in the world while trying to support myself and my goals. I wanted to be perfect, to have everything right in the world. And I did. Being in love makes everything right in the world, it makes all the exhaustion worth it and I wouldn't spent my summer any other way than the way I did.
What I do regret is convincing myself I could make it work with a guy who was dorming who I was never going to see. I wanted so badly to be with him, to stay with him, but I was driving myself nuts trying to figure out how to do it and how to stop worrying he was going hurt me or himself or that I was. So I just stopped. I cut two of my jobs loose before the start of the school year, and I broke up with him on my birthday. I was doing it for him, because as much as he said he was fine with the way things were, there's no way he could be. And I knew that because I wasn't fine.
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