And I can't help but wonder why I ever cared to go back in the first place. Even during the summer, it was fairly obvious that the few friends that remained in London wanted little to do with me for a variety of reasons.
The friends I had in senior year, due to what I hear from Curtis- and I believe that I have every right to name people specifically after everything that transpired during high school- seem mostly preoccupied with the fact that I faked being drunk in Kevin Tuck's basement and had severe emotional problems and insecurity issues and unable to comprehend that I have matured significantly since then. The MSN conversations Curtis showed me while I was still too cowardly to inform him that I didn't entirely care for him confirmed any and all suspicions I had on these matters.
The friends I had who were still in high school friend-dumped me in what my parents and friends essentially called a "typical high school fashion." My mother said that she "knew that those girls would abandon [me]," however, I like to believe that I have maintained some semblance of friendship with a couple of them. I think that they know who they are, and I am quite certain that their level of immaturity is more or less on par with what is considered "typical high school fashion." "Typical high school fashion" is more or less tolerable and easily abandoned when one enters University.
Emily, Jessica, and everyone else did not act in "typical high school fashion." They acted like they were in Grade Seven. There is no excuse for behaving immaturely for a Grade 11 girl. There is even less excuse for John to do this, seeing as he is in the same year as me and yet manages not to behave like it.
Of course, by the end of the summer, all these issues converged in a series of dramatic Facebook messages. I was forced to explain things to Curtis, which I should have admittedly done in the first place, and I received highly annoying and highly immature messages from both John and Jessica. Emily chose to block me in typical Emily non-confrontational behaviour, and eventually deleted me off Twitter along with Mark after I left a rather candid update about her.
And when everything ended, this blog was still sitting here. With its little countdown on several fluffy entries, it continued to sit here. I had no idea what to do with it. I had convinced myself that "London was holding me back," and therefore dove into a series of friendships and activities that have proven quite fruitful thus far. All have imbued me with a deep sense of hope, fulfillment, confidence, and most of all happiness. My recent RUMUN Conference in particular contributed a great deal in making me feel proud to be a dork.
And this blog was still sitting here. Granted, I had posted a political entry, and before that I had posted a short message entitled "why I left," but I had yet to define its new purpose. I maintained the countdown, but I soon began to question it as I was only counting down to seeing a number of friends who broke off contact with me in the most immature possible fashion. So, what was the point? What is the point of it?
It is connected with the following statement: I will not be visiting London for Thanksgiving vacation. I assure you that I will visit during the Winter Break, however I will only visit for a fraction of it. This blog will henceforth be a mechanism for those of you who care enough to learn about my continuing exploits throughout the world, not just in New Jersey. My life in London is over, and I have to make that clear to myself.
I am sorry to say the following, but I undoubtedly returned to London so often in an attempt to regain the approval of all the parties I have already mentioned. Now, I could not care less if I never obtain it. I am not bitter. I fully accept the consequences of my actions. However, I cannot spend the rest of my life returning to a half-life in London constantly apologizing for the mistakes I made while in a fragile emotional state. I cannot spend the rest of my days attempting to redeem myself for past errors like a Vietnam veteran working for the Red Cross.
Whatever happened happened. Meagan happened, Caroline happened, Kevin Tuck's basement happened, and Emily Soti happened. I cannot change any of those things.
Similarly, what is happening now will continue to happen. That includes all my successes at Rutgers, and in the United States in general.
And finally, whatever will happen will happen. Who knows what that will be? I will only post in this blog with that in mind from now on. Please read if you want to learn more about my summer internships, my growing proficiency in Arabic, my plans to transcribe war poetry from Gaza, and even my trip to New York Fashion Week. Such is the future, and nothing else has ever mattered more.
Corny, right? Who cares. Ha.
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