Yet another manic high school girl entry. This is during my junior year, first quarter, and I was wildly in love (in a completely unrequited way) with a guy in my French class who was a senior. It is a tragic tale, but I didn’t know how it would end at the time of this entry.<\/p>\n
2 days after the dance — 2 days before my birthday!<\/p>\n
I got on the Honor Roll! YAY! Dave got High Honors<\/u>. [Ed: Ah, and here it is. Not taking the proper time to revel in my own accomplishment … before comparing it to his – which seems far superior to me. Hmmmm. Get over that one quick, Sheil-babe.<\/i>] Diary – how does he do it all? Student Council, Band, Stage Band – and he’s not just<\/u> a sax player – he is a great<\/u> sax player. [Ed: I could barely type that just now without flying apart in embarrassment. Visions of “St. Elmo’s Fire” dance in my head.<\/i>] He is in AP English, Physics, probably all the top courses. [Sheila: STOP DOING THAT. You are an awesome girl yourself, with a ton of interests and extra-curricular activities. KNOCK THIS SHIT OFF.<\/i>] I don’t know how people like that do<\/u> it! [Ed: Ehm, same way you do? Hard work? Sacrifice? Commitment?<\/i>]<\/p>\n
By the way – I haven’t stopped thinking about him for a minute. [Really, Sheila. I find that hard to believe.<\/i>]<\/p>\n
Yesterday after the football game (we lost), we drove up to Wellesley for dinner at Mama’s. I brought books and stories for the ride – but all I did was stare out the window and think of Dave! Does he think of me? Or is he so nice to everyone? I wonder what’s going to happen on Monday. I hope he doesn’t never talk to me again. [Huh? Double negative?<\/i>] I want the friendship to keep growing.<\/p>\n
You know what Kate said on Wednesday? I was a wreck about Dave. She, as she put on makeup, said, “Sheila — honestly — as an outsider — I can see it. There is potential there.” [Not to open up old wounds, but I STILL maintain that Kate was right!!<\/i>] J. says it too. She says, “When I see you two talk, I can see it! I really can.” I just sit there: “Where<\/u>? Where<\/u> do you see it?” Because we just talk — I mean — is<\/u> there something more there? J. says, “Well, since it’s happening to you, I suppose you can’t see it. I mean, they do say that Love is blind<\/u>.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Yet another manic high school girl entry. This is during my junior year, first quarter, and I was wildly in love (in a completely unrequited way) with a guy in my French class who was a senior. It is a … Continue reading