I am angry. I am spending this week working, working, working. I am tired. I want to sleep. I messed up a relationship, I am probably going to mess up the next one.
I miss Grace. God, I miss her.
I am scared, and nervous. I do not really want to live alone with strangers. Sure, I know one of them, but I mean, do I really want to live with her? Not really. She is really nothing but a stranger to me. I do not want to learn how to live with new people. I really don't. I do not want to learn how to navigate a whole new city. I have no sense of direction. I barely have Prattville figured out. Tuscaloosa is much bigger. I do not want to even have to learn how to navigate campus; it is big. I spent two hours looking for Nott Hall when I went for my Coca-Cola scholarship interview. Also, I do not like the things they are making me do. JUST because I am first-generation doesn't mean that I won't survive just fine without their "help." I hate when people push you to do things, like, "Oh, you HAVE to participate in ____, but it's for your benefit." Yeah, right. I can decide that, thanks. I am scared. I do not know people. I know this is silly, as I will meet people. But I am scared of the months it will take to do so.
I am angry at my best friend. Nonly did she just up and decide that the photography business we planned together was no longer going to work, she basically told me she had no trust in me. After two days of silence, I asked if she was mad at me, and she said no. I think yes would have made me happier, because why else has she not been talking to me, when she knows I am leaving in a few weeks? Because she doesn't care? Can I be mad at her for that? For not caring? It's not like one really chooses to care or not to care; the real essence of that is in one's heart, although people pretend that they do or don't all the time, of course. Anyway, I'm the one wishing there were plans made, and trying to make them. It's like she DOESN'T CARE. whether it should or not, that makes me angry and it hurts me like you wouldn't imagine. It makes me want to cry. In fact, it has made me cry. And when I told her I was upset with her, she didn't care about that, either. She didn't pursue a conversation. I'm afraid I'm going to look back in years' come and pinpoint these weeks as the weeks where we took the "best" out of our friendship. I'm afraid I am going to regret that I let my dumb pride get in the way, because that's why I'm simply checking my phone and boiling about the fact that she isn't initiating conversation, instead of intiating it myself. But I've intiated enough. I'm sure I'll regret this.