I thought coming to boarding school would fix everything. My problems were back home in Chicago, I could start over, do things the right way. And for the first couple weeks, that worked. But then I realized I couldn't be that person. I'm awkward. I'm gay. Sometimes I say things I don't mean. Sometimes I cry. There are scars on my wrists. More often than not, I'm too clingy. That's who I am, it's not going to change. Junior says she doesn't mind, but then she never quite looks me in the eye. Senior only spends time with me when she's got nothing else to do. Sophomore still hasn't talked to me. Walked right by me when I was cleaning my saddle, then again when I was taking Ink up to turnout. Not a glance, not a word. Jingling spurs never sounded so loud. Then, after formal, standing in a circle with Junior and a sophomore boy, talked to both of them, but never looked once at me, never even said hi. I miss her so much. I miss the easy friendships I had at home, the ones that weren't shaky, the ones with ten years of base. I'm so worn out, never physically tired, just emotionally. When all I need is to sleep, and forget for a few hours, either I can't, or Sophomore haunts my dreams.
At least I have Ink... I rode tackless today, and he finally got a flying lead change.
33 days to Thanksgiving break.