I had an 'epiffany' about my NaNoWriMo novel this year. It's about the Blair to My Serena (yes, I made a gossip girl reference.) but much more exaggerated and, well, negative. Though the whole thing is already exaggerated in my incredibly paranoid mind, so I'm not sure how I can make it worse. I mean, even now, after we supposedly have come to a point where we understand each other, I'm still. I do this thing, where I assume the worst. She brings it out in me. Even thinking about it jumbled up my head.
I'm thinking about titling it "Snake on the Tracks," which will make sense once it's read. And I just decided I'm going to focus on the disappointment that I'm feeling now, while writing. Let's just say, if you're a true best friend, you're going to see it need space, but you're supposed to try and gain my trust back. Or at least, that's what would happen in a perfect world.
This, this right here, is why I burn bridges so much. Sure, it's lonely, but you don't feel disappointed that they don't fight to be your friend like you want them too. And you don't constantly fear lying, or her liking and 'getting' a guy you like(d) and told her such. [But then again such leads to your realization that the boys in your own grade don't all suck as much as you thought. Sure, you've no hope, they could do better, but still.]
God, boys are stupid. Girls are stupid. I am a headcase with a headache. Goodnight.
Sarah
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