In English class at the beginning
of the year, my class was told to write
a letter to ourselves about our lives
at the moment. my teacher locked
them away and said we would write
a response to that letter at the end
of the year. we've just gotten the letters
back, and I decided to write
my response to my September self
on here, for all to see. hope you all enjoy.
Dear self,
Your first impressions of school weren't that far off, honestly. Sure, there were classes that you liked over others, but overall, the experience was "alright." I'm pleased to inform you that you made friends in your new classes. You met Diana in U.S. History, Shai in Psychology, and Sam in Chemistry.
You actually did get into a relationship with Joe (congratulations man) and you guys dated on and off for eight months. You loved him so fu//cking much. You went to prom too and you had a BLAST. No, Mom didn't stop drinking, sorry. But I strongly believe it'll stop soon enough. You'll have the courage to stand up to her. Don't worry, you still maintained contact with your group of friends. You saw them a lot at Tech. You still went to Sarah's every Wednesday. You had a bomb-a//ss Christmas party. You had a really nice birthday. You did sign up for Tech and you worked on Frankenstein and Hairspray. They were very fun and memorable shows.
I believe you actaully did become a bettter reader and writer this year. You read the whole Harry Potter series and watched all the movies, and you're such a big fan now. (Don't you roll your eyes at me, Past Nicole, Harry Potter is freaking AWESOME) You started writing a lot more, and you've been keeping a journal for over six months. You didn't work as hard as you should have in English though. Maybe you were too distracted by Joe. You didn't put 100% of your effort into this school year as a whole either. But senior year will be your year. It's your last year of high school, and you're going to make it count.
I'm proud to say you survived your junior year of high school. You learned a lot, lost about 35% of your purity, made new friends, and you finally decided not to take anyone's sh//it when you turned 17. I love the new you. Stick to your guns, little homie, I love you.
Your 9-month-later self,
Nicole
P.S: yeah man