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Wednesday, May 9


Sitting in the library at this time of day, when I should be in class, in this humid air, just as humid as it was back then, I can almost pretend that it's two years ago. Sophomore year, I used to come down here everyday during fourth hour and just... Read. That was the beginning and end of so much. I was at the cusp of something huge and I used to be so oblivious. It was the beginning of my obsession with fashion, with design, with serious writing, with Jordan and everything he stood for. How odd. How far things have come since then.

And yet. And yet, I can close my eyes and everything is exactly as it used to be. I am sitting at the same exact stool, looking across the same exact room, feeling the same idle nostalgia that I used to feel. Trapped and overwhelmingly free at the same exact time. Odd how things change and yet... Remain exactly as they used to be.

I really should go back to class. Or at least down to the office to talk to Ms. Smithwalker. She's been sending me passes to see her for the past week. But I keep putting them in my back pocket and "forgetting" about them. I have nothing to say to her. She wants to hear that I have fabulous plans for next year, that I'm thrilled by the fact that I'm graduating, that I got accepted into NYU just like she said I would. But I don't have anything of that sort to say. I am indecisive and apprehensive. I am regretful and afraid.

And it's suddenly hit me that I don't have this security anymore. I don't have this school, these administrators, this strict schedule to fall back on. In a few weeks, it will all be gone. I'll be free to make my own choices, just like I've always wanted.

I don't know what I want anymore. I don't know.

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