I went to check my Dar-mail a few minutes ago and I can't get into it anymore. I logged onto the website to check the server....I'm not on it anymore. know it's not okay, at all. I know how badly I messed up. I know that I make unrealistic goals. The only reason I do it....is because I don't think before I speak. I'm trying to learn to do that. I just wish that they understood...that everything isn't perfect. I'm not a perfect, blonde, smart, yes ma'am, no sir, girl. I am smart, I can get good grades. I had/have bad study skills. I know that, it's something I WANT to work on no matter where I go. I want to go to a good college. I NEED to get good grades to do that. I know that. I know that I can't just go around blowing off my school work so I can go out to dinner with some friends, or practice a new music piece. I wish that I could find a way to show them that, ya know? I've been so happy at Darlington. I mean, yeah coming home won't be all bad, but what will I have there? Family, but I get to see you all over holidays and it's hard seeing you that little, but I love being at Darlington too. I mean back home I have two friends (good friends). Jon and Liz. Jon will be coming to Darlington and Liz goes to another school. I wish there was something I could do. I screwed it up. I should be the one to fix it, but I can't. I mean....there really is nothing I can do. I wish I had thought more when I sent that email a while back. I only got one response to it. It was from my math teacher, Mrs. Myrick. She's really great. I mean....sometimes I really don't like her at all, but she really did try to help me as much as she could. She would spend hours helping me with math homework some nights. She was always there when I needed to talk to someone. She really, truely was a great teacher. She lives in the dorm I was in she used to have me and a few other girls up to her appartment for movies and stuff. It was so much fun. I would spend 5th period in her room talking about guys, and my future, and movies, and music....really....just anything. I may not get to sit with her and chit-chat like that anymore. And Mr. Milford was amazing. He was always there for everyone. No matter who you were or what your problem was. He was very busy all the time, but always had time to talk to you still. If he couldn't talk on the phone he could text you. I loved having him as my head of house. The week after school ended I was on campus for about an hour and the door to teh dorm was unlocked so I went inside and looked around the dorm and I cried. I wondered then if that would be the last time I got to be in there. I look at my tile on the cealing and everyone else's and laughed thinking about everything that happened that year. I though about all the people who wouldn't be coming back and all the people who would. Who would make a difference in teh school and who you just sit there and watch. I found a marker on the white board and I picked it up and started to draw on the board. Not too long after another girl from my dorm came in and looked supprised to see me. We sat a talked. She was telling me how she wasn't coming back next year. We decided to write Mr. Milford a message on teh white board. We filled the whole board with pictures and memories and "thank you"s. We looked at our empty rooms and she cried. She wasn't allowed to come back because her mom wanted her home. I can't stop thinking about how I won't get to see the guy that I like next year. He'll be a senior. Going off to college the year after. All of my friends, Shauna, Daniel, Dane, Jamie, Ryan, Steff, Esa, Cha-Ame, Brandon, Vicky and so many others I may not get to go to school with next year.I don't know if I can stand not seeing them... I may not get to see what part they get in the Music Man or who gets what solo in chorus. I won't get to sing with Mr. Camp's Jazz Band again....or spend countless hours up in the black box practicing for plays or just sitting up there with 1 or 2 other people and talking. I won't get to go to the chapel during 6th period and practice all alone with the echo. I wont get to watch Mr. Cox and Stephen face off in beach volley ball. I may never even see another bleacher creature. I won't get to wear thoes very ugly uniforms next year, or sit on the library steps waiting for the bus to walmart or wait for someone to pick me up at the arch to go who knows where. I wont get to spend the night with Shauna at aunt liz's or sleep over at Jamies house. Mr. Bishop is probably going to kill me for blowing it. He was always telling me how I need to work harder and watch my studies. I broke a window this year....on the chapel. I didn't mean to...they never knew it was me. We were playing hide and seek. Vicky climbed through the window and I was at the door pounding on it for her to let me in. I hit one wrong spot and broke the window. It was a little one. and they replaced it the next day. Ha. There were so many things I did wrong there. I was always getting yelled at for being out of my room after 11 or talking to vicky when during study hall. We had tons of parties in teh lounge for birthday's and stuff. Someone was on christmas break when we had theirs....so when mine came up...I told Megan to do Paiges instead. She didnt want to but I had a show that night anyway. Paige was happy. It was like a supprise birthday for her. My grades were bad during the show week for les mis...so I spent the afternoons in teh library doing my homework then instead of at night because I had to practice. When I realized that I was going to fail some classes no matter my final grades I went to the Eady's appartment and cried to Mr. and Mrs. Eady. Mrs. Eady gave me a good book to read between study times. I never got to finish it. I wanted to pass my finals before I finished it. I guess I really did fuck it up.

Sorry....I had to get that all out somewhere.

I would do anything it takes to go back there. I mean being a day student would be fine, but I'd rather live there in the dorms. It's like have 20-something sisters. I love it....so much. If I can't go back....I'll miss it....so much.

Just thinking about it makes me cry.

it's late....er....or early.....

night
-bomber