A brief update.

In case you're worried about how I'm coping after that night, don't be. Worried, that is. I'm fine. Between my family and my friends (they blend into one large family, really), they talked me down and helped me feel better and I am fine. I couldn't ask for better people in my life, really. 

I cried after talking to them. Not because of what happened, but because they are such absolutely wonderful people and I don’t know what I have done to deserve them in my life but I am forever grateful for them.

Tom never contacted me again. I've actually seen him a few times since then, only in passing. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t recognize me, because that night my hair was down and all pretty and I was wearing contacts and had eyeliner on and shizz. And this past week I’ve made zero efforts so I've been wandering around in a t-shirt and jeans and sneakers and my hair in a bun and wearing my glasses. I really don’t care though, so I guess that’s good. He’s in one of Totes’ classes, and she texted The Brother and me to tell us and all three of us had a good laugh. And the other day, The Brother was teasing me about him over something and I was all ‘lmao calm the fuck down bro that’s not even an idea I consider’ and basically I'm fine.

But. A part of me regrets it. Because I wanted my first kiss to actually mean something and be with someone I cared about and had feelings for (don’t we all?). But it was wayyyyy off the mark. The Brother said it was better this way because at least no feelings got hurt, and he’s right. I see that. But movies and books have prepared us for magic and this is real life so obv no magic.

Anyway. The important thing is that I am doing fine.

School’s shit as usual. My education class makes me want to quit life. I daydream about telling her off. It’s a very satisfying daydream. Just standing up one day and giving her a piece of my mind and telling her exactly what I think of her and her class and what she can do with her assignments and discussion boards and ahhhhhh. Imma stop with that now.

There’s less than a month left for my birthday and I'm nervous. Because I doubt anyone here will remember it. They haven’t known me long enough to remember it and celebrate it the way my friends do back home. And while I don’t really care about not doing anything on my birthday, I do care about being the subject of pity, which is what will happen when people realize the next day or whenever, that it was my birthday. Sigh. I don’t want to spend my birthday alone, but I don’t want it to be a big deal either and ugh. It’s so weird. I guess I shouldn’t jump ahead of myself and just wait and see if it comes up at any point in a conversation. But I have almost no hopes. So that’s good in a way I guess because then if something does happen, no matter how small of a thing, I’ll be super happy.