The Year

Self,

Oh hell. You actually did it. 13.6666666666666666666666667 years of not failing at life, and you actually feel damn good for once. Remember the beginning of the year? Remember the beginning of eighth grade when you were so afraid of everything and had to make sure everything would be okay? But it turned out okay and--amazingly--you're coming out of this year on top. You have friends--not just the same people you've been clinging to since elementary school, but new friends. You've met people who you actually like, people you joke with and laugh with and just generally enjoy being around and people who you can actually be around going into the future, people you don't have to be false with.

Just thinking:

You and Ash. It's what, nine years now? The Game, losing it--that's our summary of this year. And yeah, she wants to go to high school so bad and yeah, she wants this year to end but you guys are doing so much better. And yeah, maybe next year you'll still survive. So maybe you're not best friends in the whole world and do everything together, but you're friends and you talk and you joke and you laugh.

You and Nicole. Two and a half years. This year, you spent more time in her homeroom this morning than you ever did in yours, and God only knows how many things you panicked over together. And Matt, always so sure that we were right--you laughed about that time after time. Best lab partner you've ever had, eh? Also the only lab partner you've ever had, but still. At least you have the faintest idea how a microscope works now.

You and S. A year and a half. Remember all your arguments? Remember 9-4-9-15-20? And then there's all your book arguments--because really, you still can't get why she sticks to Maximum Ride. 'Snot worth it, really. And all of her Stories--you know the ones. Wednesdays with her dad, horrid weekends with her grandparents, but you think they're all hilarious anyways.

You and Amy. Think about it--four and a half years. Four years, in a row, the two of you. The conversations you two have every day when she goes to science and you go to history, then later when you go to Spanish together, are one of the best parts of your day. Remember you, the first day of school? It was sort of sad, because you went through the day and there was no Amy--and there'd been an Amy since fifth grade when you two both got the same teacher and all the same classes--and then it was last period, and you found your desk and you looked across the room and hell, that was her, and you two laughed. And of course, she's never getting rid of you now. And hell, you're gonna be locker buddies for the next three years. At least, almost locker buddies. She's like five down. Good enough.

You and Rach. Just this year. And yeah, you complain but you don't mind her constant need to know that she has the answer to a history question right, and yeah, you find her anxiety sort of funny, but she's your friend. And, like I haven't said it enough, you joke and laugh and talk and it's just fun.

You and E. This year, too. Because gym wouldn't be the same otherwise. You argue and laugh and died attempting to run together, but it was a fun death. And you'll never look at school lunches the same way again.

You and A. Two years, but mostly this year. Hell, if it weren't for you two being shoved in the same study hall you'd both be so screwed right now. Remember math? Sometimes it was an impossible feat, it seems. And you know that you two are gonna spend all of this week doing Spanish homework together 'cause you're too lazy and procrastinate so you don't do it at home.

You and K. Just these past few months, lately. But you'll never forget your can opener, will you? And you'll never stop mocking her over Bert and her impossible-to-pronounce last name.

And they, Ave, made your year.