Hatred is inherently precise in a close knit society.

So as today started as yet another of those perfectly normal days where I have to study for fuschmucking number of finals, and try to survive until period so and so, I believe that I was happy for a period of time during the day. Vertebrate Zoology killed my spirits in the beginning because I received (i before 'cept after c) a relatively good score on my final. Of course, not as good as dear Cindy, but my readers will forgive me for no recibo un nota buena compared to a piece of Victoria's Secret glorified lamprey underwear. Nevertheless, it was a good grade and the fourth highest in the class. Yes, I'm rather egotistical like that. As the day continued to progress, I encountered my next final: Lingua Latinam. Or the language Latin. Also a hard final, but I think I'm too bogged down in studying to finals to really actually concentrate on the test when it appears lo and behold! magically in front of me. The day progressed with a venture to Cindy's spanish class during my free period, and eating lolipops and hitting Kevin on the head, and doing Jefferson's math homework. Did I mention that Stephen sat on me? Not such a great sensation I might add. And I never did win at bingo. All in all, I've realized that I've made so many new friends, and have gotten close to so many of them. I think, probably without track, I'd be totally lost, but just suffering together in the armory makes it all perfectly bearable. Especially making friends with the boys track team. "Bagel Man".
However, in stark contrast to my happy-go-lucky mood after coming home, and waiting at Kew Gardens for half-hour b'cause I, being the awesomely perfectly intelligent person forgot to call mis parientes before I got onto the train and then talking to Stepha for that half-hour (or maybe me just complaining), I practically immediately went online. It was there that I saw probably the two words that just shattered my life, my happiness, and probably a friendship that I hoped to save. I can't make an effort after you tell me to, and then get backstabbed in the back. I'm not perfect, but I can be oblivious, and that's when you need to tell me. Communication is essential. However, I cannot say that I didn't expect this to happen. Day One, I worried that once we got too close, I was going to do what I always do: I distance myself, and find myself acquainted with others. Maybe I should have warned you? Maybe not. -Perfection can sometimes be perfect hell- And no, I am not talking about someone anyone here knows. It may sound like it, but my life does not revolve around similar issues to this one. I'd just wish that maybe I wasn't such a bitch, a coward, and a true backstabber.
Well, there's this person, who I absolutely love to death and that would be the end of it. And there's this other person, who I understand, but who thinks I don't understand, where I really understand better than that person will know, whom I love, and want to know that I love. In addition, there's this person who's exactly like me, and simply put, that fact alone can cause problems, but I love this person. Then there this person, who seems to be so understandable, but I want this person to know I'm there for this person, and that I love this person too. I also know that these people will not bother to read this, and the entire point of me writing this is rather irrelevent.
Ah. That angst-y rant did make me feel good. I need something big to cheer me up right about now. In one of the randomest comments ever, I've never fallen for a nice guy. But I feel like I could be. Oh, the horror.