entry #10, 7/30/2024 12:55AM

there are so many things that i regret in my life. things that i did do, things that i didn't do, things i said, and shouldn't have said. i guess they make us.

i had a memory come to me in the strangest place: the toilet. i ate a whole pizza a few hours ago, and my stomach did not take kindly to it, but i had a sad memory sitting there, while i was (somewhat) emptying my bowels.

i was 13, enrolled in a new middle school. i hated myself, the way i looked, the way i talked, the way i acted, the way people looked at me. i was possibly more socially awkward than i am now, cause back then i thought everyone hated me as much as i hated myself, rather than thinking they all think i am as weird as i think i am. i didn't bathe, i didn't take care of my teeth, i never brushed my hair, i barely changed clothes. i remember i always wore a big hoodie because i believed i was fat and ugly, so the hoodie hid my true shape, and i'd try to wear the hood on my head whenever i could because my hair was greasy and gross.

i barely had any friends at this school. in my old school, i had a few good ones, but they all drifted away from me over time. at this school, i only had one friend, and he was nice, but we didn't stay in touch after he graduated and i got held back a grade.

one day, it was time for math class, and i hated math. i went anyway, and there were a couple of new students. sitting in the front row, i immediately recognized my childhood best friend from first grade. she looked exactly the way she did all those years ago, same hairstyle, same face, same bushy eyebrows (not a jab at her appearance, i think bushy eyebrows are cool.)

she did not notice me, but i noticed her, and i looked at her as if i saw a ghost. of course, i sat in the back of the class, but the entire time i was just staring at the back of her head, trying to figure out if it was truly her, fantasizing about talking to her, what i would even say, what she would say back, if she would even remember me. 

in the end, i didn't talk to her, and i pretended i didn't know who she was. she didn't talk to me either, probably not recognizing me since i wore glasses now, and looked far worse than i did as a younger child. but i regret not talking to her, not reaching out, rekindling our friendship, all over my self hatred and fear.

i remember she was the one that taught me how to fold my fingers over each other to make my hand look weird and broken (she was double jointed and so am i) and i still do that trick to this day to show off my double jointedness. i was maybe 7 or 8 when she taught me how to do that, so i think its kind of funny and sad how i've carried a piece of her for over a decade with me. a simple finger trick that makes my fingers look weird and broken.

i wish i talked to her, i wish i said "hey, remember me? you taught me that thing one time?", i wish we were still friends. it is what it is, though.

just got kind of sad remembering that.