Something Old

I had to empty my locker of books for my trip to Belgium in order to finish all of the homework that was assigned. Who would've thought that I would uncover a small skeleton in my closet today though.

The song Dylan wrote for me when we were still together was there. It's funny, he never even sang it to me, so I never correlated a tune to the lyrics. Maybe that is why I never grew attached to it. The song was very sweet, but all I remember feeling when I received it was a little disappointment. Of course, I was just being petty, a petty teenage girl who just wants to hear the three words that are such an important part of faerie-tales movies. I remember that morning I was frustrated with our relationship and just wanted it to be over, I remember thinking we were practically friends as we never saw each other, so removing relationship labels would ultimately change nothing. I did not realize he would forget my existence the day after. The song in my locker and a rose impeded on my plans to end it and so I was a bit disappointed. It was honestly, all very stupid and childish.

Sometimes I think of how this year would have turned differently if he had actually done what I had hoped he would've. I would have never met my best friends, and would probably have not grown as close to Sarah as I did nor met my Senior friends. In a way, sometimes I regret not having made the change sooner. It would have given me more time with the people who actually care about me and not just about a temporary, high school relationship.

I allowed myself a dramatic close to the matter by burning the letter when I got home. I enjoyed every second. Why not? I had always dreamed about burning something that once held a certain importance to me. Granted, this time there were no imagined roasting marshmallows and the kitchen was filled with ashes I later had to clean, but the intent was there alright. I was happy to be able to be dramatic if only for a second.

Waffles and Dark Chocolate

I visited Belgium this last week, and though missing four days of school has me incredibly stressed out, one should always make time to reflect, huh? Or maybe, I'm just a prolific procrastinator.

I have to admit I absolutely loved it there. Europe certainly has a zesty appeal to it, and with spring right around the corner the weather, flowers and traditional houses definitely helped make the landscape all the more beautiful. We spent the first three days visiting houses to rent. It is funny to me that after looking at thirteen different homes my mother settled with renting the very first one we looked at, the one she didn't like originally though I had pointed out all the benefits. It is a three story home, with six bedrooms, and more importantly is located within walking distance of my new school. I can't imagine having to live thirty minutes driving distance away ever again, not after the last nine years of being late every day. Maybe I'll finally be on time everyday, or even early. Maybe. 

I was terrified about next year's schedule, I thought it would be utterly destroyed. Though half of my classes are with Juniors, my schedule is almost exactly what it would have been here, except for French instead of Chinese and the convenient absence of U.S. History. I even had a day to shadow a girl that had been there since eighth grade, by the name of Anna. Her boyfriend, Zach is a boy I met when I was seven, and he still looks almost exactly the same, albeit more muscular and less childlike but that was to be expected after ten years. It was strange meeting the people I hadn't seen since I was seven, like deja vu, except I had actually been in their presence before. I even met my kindergarten teacher who let me know, after hardly recognizing me, that she still drank her tea out of a mug I handcrafted for her when I was five. My first grade teacher only recognized me because my little sister reminded her of my older sister when she was five. 

Every location we passed, the tiny deli in the corner on our way to the school where we bought freshly squeezed orange juice, the playground I played in when I was six (though the seesaw, and wooden crocodile beam have been replaced) and even the hidden path that took us directly to school, were intensely familiar. My little sister had to remind me not to freak out every time I recognized a new location. The waffles were amazing and who could forget the delicious chocolate! I even brought some back for my friends here to enjoy. I'll certainly miss my friends from Ohio, but the promise of a great batch of friends has made me leave half of my heart there already. I'm anxious to leave now.