I hope what happens to me last semester doesn't happen again.
I'm like, this close to my future. To actual work life and all that. I'm a little terrified, but I can probably handle it. Worst case scenario is that I can't and I have to do something else. That's fine. It's all fine. I ate a pastry my grandmother made today and cleaned my whole apartment until it looked like out of a magazine. (I'm generally a slob). Then I did some studying, anxiously texted a cute guy.
Hope in the beginning of things. While eating the pastry I thought "Jenn should have lived for this." But yeah, little things? I was on a train and staring at the passing country side, which is one of my life long favourite habits. There are so many strange places a person could run away to. Running away is way, way better than suicide.
I don't mean to dwell, but it does occur to me. Like, I'm pretty happy right now. And I feel guilty for it.
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