Endings are Beginnings in Disguise

One would think that, having said most of my goodbyes already, I would be finished with most of my depressed, sentimental sob-fest. But of course, I cry when I really can’t have crying, like when I get my shots or freak out during Math class, and can’t seem to muster any tears when saying goodbye to close friends.

Do not get me wrong. I absolutely adore all of them. I would willingly put everything down and do whatever is necessary to help them if they need it. They are wonderful people, all of them. They aren’t full of themselves, overly obsessed with their image, or overly obsessed with anything I wouldn’t overly obsess over myself. Many of them are artistic. They all make me laugh, are honest and completely real. I love them all. True, I have felt a little alienated from some of them, sometimes because they go to a different high school, sometimes because we haven’t talked in a while and don’t have any new personal jokes to fall back on. Sometimes simply because we, or I at least, don’t know what to say.

We had a good time, I think. We went to our local Olive Garden, which was a bit upscale for us, seeing as how must of us are T-Shirt and jeans people. We’re also incapable of holding a serious conversation for more than a few minutes, and I’m pretty sure the staff was glad we were in a relatively isolated corner. One thing I noticed, though; the farther away from me my friends sat, the less conversation they made, at least that I noticed. That’s why I originally wanted to sit somewhere in the middle. I almost didn’t talk at all to one of my friends since, what, 4th grade? And it makes me feel terrible, because she was all the way on the other end of the table and was looking a little lost.

The food, however, was wonderful and delicious, but maybe I just thought that because I was focusing on talking to everyone else. Nobody complained about the food, though, so I can assume it was a success.

Gifts were exchanged. A lot of them were actually useful! I’ll definitely be making use of a lotion one of my friends concocted for sunburn; the forecast for Spain is sun, sun, and some more sun. Which is good for my vitamin D synthesization. I also got a little reading lamp that will be attached to the book I also received from the same friend, as well as little unnamed dragons to put in my new room, Copic Markers from one of my artist friends, a Spanish-English Dictionary, a fluffy teddy bear who is yet to be named, drawings and cards, and Sudoku. Lots and lots of Sudoku. What can I say? My friends don’t want me watching movies on my flight, obviously. They want me to sharpen my mind skills so that I can totally kick butt in Spain. This is true friendship.

Heartfelt goodbyes soon followed. One by one my friends were picked up by well-wishing parents, and eventually it was just two close friends, my family and me, and the mosquitoes. Unfortunately, we didn’t have any Tabasco sauce with which to explode the little suckers. My two friends were dropped off with hugs.

Not a tear shed.

Is something wrong with me, or is this just how I am? I mean, I know I’m not that tough. I’m probably closer to the wimp category when it comes to pain, not understanding things, and hypodermic needles. I’ve passed out and freaked out enough times for me to realize that I am, in fact, not as super-amazingly awesome as I would like to believe. I am also not indestructably invincible, unfortunately. But when telling my friends goodbye for a whole year, not one measly drop? I don’t know why. I really do not know.

I’ll try not to dwell on it. It’s probably not good to stay up this late over it.

On a completely unrelated note, I am now convinced that I need a turtleneck hoodie, something like this. Or this. Preferably in some dark color. And haha, they’re all for men. Well, I’ll just have to flout the laws of labeling, I suppose.

A good night’s sleep is essential before flying. Unfortunately, I’ve been staying up late for a while now, drawing each night. Oops.

Advertisements
Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Post navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: