Safe to say I’ve had an emotionally distraught start to the semester, for a variety of reasons. But I healed myself, surrounded myself with the right people, and at the end of this dark January, I feel more like the bouyant, happy girl I was last semester — just a little more grown up now.
Wow, last semester’s finals and GPA did not place me in high spirits for this one. Some family drama and pressure that ensued because of that also stressed me out, as well. And on top of all that, I had anxiety about housing for next year because roommate plans fell through, and a crush I’ve been harboring since October met its embarrassing end. What worse feeling is there than failure — not just in grades, but in friendship, in romance? The old pain of unreciprocated affection was back. Aching and vulnerable, I reacted by avoiding contact with my stressors (my family, my crush), and sought solace in others.
I love my classes
This semester I chose my courses entirely by myself, and the difference is astounding. I’m taking two Biology courses (Genetics and a lab), a Statistics class with a close friend, a required writing seminar (about romantic comedies!), an English class (19th-century British novel!!!), and an Urban Education class.
Not only are my Genetics professors super cute and nice, but holy FUCK. I forgot how enjoyable listening to humanities professors are. Their brilliant turns of phrase and unrestrained enthusiasm lights my soul. Last week I had an hour-and-a-half English class that felt like thirty minutes. I am so happy with what I’m leraning.
Friendship heals me
After my Great Romantic Tragedy of 2017, I went into the Blue Lounge with a pillow, blanket, and no makeup. I took up a whole couch while I read Mary Barton, napped, picked it up again. My friends there found this endearing and laughed when I described myself as “homeless.” I ate out of a carton of ice cream and told them that I felt sick (which was true, but exaggerated).
I huddled myself in the warmth of Blue Lounge and drew closer to a lot of the people as I accompanied them in Wawa runs, restaurant dinners, study dates. My friend Katie offered to be my roommate, and we applied and attained housing for next semester! All I needed was a reminder that I’m funny, valued, loved. My hollow insides filled; I’m whole again.
Snippets of Internal Monologue
- At least I can make out with whoever I want.
- I really want to punch myself in the face.
- I don’t hate him. All he did was tell the truth, and that is always kind.
Don’t forget me, don’t forget me. I wouldn’t leave you if you let me.
A haunting acoustic version — in my opinion, Halsey at her best.
I went with some friends into the city to eat some Korean friend chicken, and the TV screens showed some music videos of the handsomest guy I’d ever seen. “Who is that?” I asked, and that’s how I discovered my new obsession, G-Eazy. My favorites of his are “Some Kind of Drug” and “Let’s Get Lost.”
Just take it out on me. It’s easier than saying what you mean.
I waited for the new xx album with bated breath, man, and it wasn’t all that impressive to me — until this final song of I See You. It really rips into you. Honestly one of the most goddamn devastating songs I had ever heard. And I’ve been listening to a lot of sad music recently.
I read Mary Barton for my English class, and now we’re reading Villette by Charlotte Bronte. I love Villette. I love it when the narrator is a weird dude — especially if they’re not necessarily the center of action most of time. It’s so cool.
Okay, so, Rogue One fucked me up. I bawled at the movie theater. I’m obsessed with “rebelcaptain,” all that they could be but couldn’t, and in some ways the movie reminded me of Pacific Rim.