I’m very proud of myself for doing it and all on my own at that. For being independent. For having the strength and determination to push forward in overcoming life’s obstacles. We think we can count on others and that they will follow through with the
"Look, just leave me alone, okay?" I said sharply, slamming my locker so that it closed with a loud crash. The hurt look on her face made my heart sag inside my chest, mentally slapping myself for what I said. Marlo was only trying to help, and now I felt like a huge jackass. No-- correction, I am a huge jackass. At one point or another in my life - probably after my dad died- I suddenly stopped being nice. That makes me chuckle. I used to be nice, who would've thought?