Tonight will be the night that I will fall

Shit.
I hate the days before holiday breaks. They give us a crazy work load, which makes sense; they're teachers, this is what they do.
But I need this break so much. I'm losing my mind left and right. My history teacher caught me frantically being frantic in the halls twice last week. Fail.

But I realized that if I fail my Chem test Friday I'll have no choice but to drop the class. I failed one quiz already. It's pathetic. The grade is a disgrace. I didn't have nearly enough time for the quiz, and it's totally going to fucking drag down my grade for the fucking class.
But I burned the fucking grade off the quiz, and kept the paper for exam puposes. I like burning things.

I'm a bit buggy lately. Friday I'm going to a dance with Allen, who had been pursuing me since summer but has recently dropped chase. I figure it won't be awkward with him, he's a cool friend.

But this isn't at my school. It's at Allen's.
And I know for a fact Sam will be there.

Damn if I didn't think I had that problem licked.
He WILL be there, with his girlfriend, who he is clearly fucking senseless. Yes, vulgar language. But he is. They are.

I was so proud of myself last Friday when I successfully went on an ecursion to Wal Mart before the play (I ended up doing lights. I loved it.) with Sam and Teddy. I didn't fawn over Sam and had a great time on a simple shopping trip.
But Saturday I fell apart, and Sam's been dancing in my thoughts again.

He never liked me.
He's a manwhore.
Stop doing this to yourself.

I wish I could.

But what am I going to Friday?

I guess I better get a good dress. I have my red heels from the party two weeks ago.
Better knock him dead and remind him, yet again, what he's missing.

I think he knows he's making a big mistake with other girls, but he knows he can't have me. I'm not that easy.

One day, we'll end these mind games.
In about a week, I'll forget about Sam again.
Til then, I have a religion test and Spanish quiz tomorrow.

Damn.

You deserve much better than me.

I just got asked out.
By a guy I never actually have any sort of interest in AT ALL.

And I agreed.

So what. Sam's just my friend. He broke up with the girl from my school before we got back, and we just got to talk and hang out and be friends at the mixer. So what if he carried me off like a regular prince charming would after I slipped on a puddle of sweat chasing after his hat? So what.
He's just my friend.
We texted like pirates Friday. That's what friends do.

I could so use this to get over him.
And I want to.

But in the deepest corner of my mind, part of me just wants him to wrap his arms around me again, and to bury my face deeply into his chest and stay there.

That's what I wanted all along.

I'm done a month of my meds, and we're starting to scale them down. Real update in the morrow.