I guess mood swings aren't just for women.... (Small joke)
After my last post I was feeling pretty down, until I remembered that I still hadn't met with my english teacher about my Writing Portfolio. This didn't exactly make me feel better when my friend John said he didn't pass his and he's an english teaching major. So I went down stairs and met with him and I PASSED! Barely. But it was still great news. That meant I still have a chance at passing at least my english class. I'm not even going to talk about my science class. But that small bit of news was able to turn my mood around, I guess I just needed something, anything that was good to make me feel better.
Oh yeah, even before I went to see him, I got a knock on the door and it was Nick Wilson, the guy who got the lead in the play. He asked if I got in and I said no. He didn't seem happy about it, and in a half-joking manner asked me if I needed a hug and we did. I know it sounds sappy but it did make me feel better. I'm glad he's my friend, even if we won't be working together on a play again.
On my way back from english, Matt (someone in the hall, not my brother) came up to me and I knew by the look in his face that he had read the blog. I assured him that I was better know that I had passed my last essay in english. He shrugged it off, and let me be. It was small, but now I realize that people do care, even those who I see everyday. And I'm sorry I've neglected those who I don't see everyday, I miss you all and the fun I had. Thanks everyone for caring enough, but I think there's someone else who needs our care. Matt (my brother, not the one in the dorm) isn't looking so good. He's been talking about how lonely he's been for a long time, but now he's been talking about suicide more and more. I fear for him, at one point in my life I actually believed he had run away and I remember how it felt for him to be gone. I'd rather not talk about the specific event but I would truly be depressed if he was gone....
Duke's Tower
Why am I trapped in this castle? I've been here for so long, it's big and cold and I only have myself for company. Sure, people visit, but all they find is what I've left behind, carved into the walls and floors. No one ever sees the real me, no one ever tries. But I still try to show them, show them the way I am inside. The way I am inside this shell, a shell that little by little is cracking away, revealing the true me. But would you show yourself if YOU were full of cracks?
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