High school isn’t the best time of your life. We all know that by now. What we don’t realize is that it gets that label by being the last time in your life where you’re basically guaranteed to have at least one friendly face to see. Once everyone leaves, they realize how many assholes are in the world and how lucky they were to have those friends. I sit here tonight alone, wondering about what has been and what will be. I’m trying to stick to my self-promise that I won’t think so much about the might have beens, those thoughts just never go anywhere productive. I’ve made it, at least in the good old American way, I think. I’m in an apartment full of stuff, mildly clever, mildly homey, sharing it with a career woman. Ok, the roles might be slightly reversed, but I don’t care about that. I sit here alone and wonder why I can’t find anyone. Sure there’s people online who I count as my friends (Mojo, Gouji, the collective of T14) , but I can’t call them up and go hang out. Even when the few friends I do have left are in town, I can’t make time to go hang out, even though it was one of the best times I have had all year. I feel like I’m back in my dorm. I’ve been eating like shit lately, and I’m feeling my energy levels going down. Fruits and veggies are good, must remember to find some. Sugar, meat, and bread don’t cut it. I think I’m going to go on another caffeine purge, and I need to start making myself go to sleep at decent hours. I used to be dead tired by 11, now I can’t fall asleep by 3 usually. If I do get tired, there’s always a reason to stay up (right now, I would just go off to bed, but I’m waiting up for her to get home. Yes, it’s only 10, but it’s healthy). I rely on her for so much, it just doesn’t seem fair. She’s my ticket out of my house, away from my parents, who I know mean well, but I will never get any better if I don’t get away. I could stay there, but I would not develop any as a person, and would have no idea how to actually get out once another opportunity arose. I can feel the good inside of me, waiting to come out. She really is the best thing to happen to me, to pick me up from my bad times, and remind me what a good time is. She puts up with me, endures the moods, the fits, and all the odd shit I do that any sane person would put me out on the curb for (and a few nuts, Miss J that would be you) and she holds onto me, refusing to let go, It’s just right. This thing I know that I’ve done right, I was in the right place at the right time. I just wonder for something so right, for something that seems like it’s just what I want, why do I feel so empty?