I dream about kissing you
I dream about kissing you
I wish you knew how terribly awful I feel about myself, actually, no I don’t
I just want to be perfect and I want you to want me
Do you think about me? I think about you all the time,
I hope you do too, you probably don’t.
I still think about you
Here is a post I previously wrote on the 30th August 2013, talking about beginning my final year of high school.
"I got by through my compulsory years in education, leaving school not with a strong and close group of friends with which I’d shared countless fond memories of the past 4 years of my life, but with a strong feeling of bitterness and regret at letting what were meant to be the best years of my life go to waste, leaving the freedom and security of what was effectively my childhood with only the achievement of decent GCSE results, it all seemed so pointless.
Entering year 13, I’ll be completing my final year of my A Levels, carrying on Chemistry, Maths and Biology from my AS choices – dropping Physics, in which I obtained a not so impressive grade in comparison to my other subjects, understandable seeing as I spent the year in a nonchalant state, just getting by and telling myself I’d learn things “properly” when I needed to for the exam, yeah cramming didn’t work as effectively as it did at GCSE.
Entering my final, ever year of sixth form I feel as though I’ve adopted a slightly different attitude to the school year in comparison to how I’ve felt in the past. I’m sure I’m not the only one here who’s entered nearly every school year bursting with motivation, hopeful at how hard they’re going to try this year. I still feel this way, on the path to try and achieve my absolute full potential, aiming for straight A’s in my A-Levels (and maybe an A* or two) but I also feel a sense of finality. This is my last year at school and everything petty that seemed oh so important in the past all just seems so… pointless. I’ve given up on beginning every year with the firm idea in my head that this year I will ‘find myself’ and obtain a group of friends that I can fit into and be inseparable from, because I’ve come to a conclusion, it’s unfortunately not going to happen.
I’d be lying if I’d said I hadn’t met some fantastic people in my school years and I do feel as though I’ve definitely made many friends with many people who’s company I very much enjoy, but since arriving at my high school in year 7, I’ve found myself to float between various social groups, meaning I was associated and was friendly with a range of people but never became particularly close enough with anyone to fit into any particular friendship groups.
After all these years with the same people there isn’t a specific group I fit perfectly into and belong, and I’ve come to realise this summer, that that’s perfectly okay because school isn’t the end. There’s a whole world out there and it’s full of people with interests so similar to mine I’ll wonder where on earth they’ve been all my life. And once I’ve found these people, and everyone else I know who will be moving across the UK to different universities have found their people, how many of us, realistically, will have time to keep in contact, proper contact, with those people who we tried so hard to please and befriend for 6 long years in high school?
I’d like to think that at least a handful would think about me enough to organise something in the summer holidays, or during Christmas time to want to see me and wonder how I’m doing.”
Nearly four months on from writing this short post, I’d like to take back what I said because wanting friends and to feel wanted during my final year of High School wasn’t as pointless as I thought-or wanted it to be. Because I feel lonely and I feel sad and I feel awfully bitter about everything.
Every summer I return to school to find everyone I’ve ever known to eagerly want to talk to me about what was the best summer of their lives. I log on to social networking sites to see my friends posting pictures of their summers, with friends and on holidays, at music festivals and at parties. I can’t say that I didn’t try, because I really, truly did. I try every year. I try to fit in, living on the hope that maybe once I’ll make an impression on someone enough that they’d think about me during summer, maybe, just maybe they’d miss me. To be missed would be the nicest thing, to know that someone was thinking about you enough to wonder what you were doing right at that moment. Alas, every year I’m met with cold and bitter disappointment as I spend my summers sitting in the same seat at my desk, staring at a computer screen for up to 10 hours a day, watching everyone’s lives progress but mine. Leaving me with the question, is it even worth trying anymore?