You truly do, pick your own poison. And it's better to realize yourself earlier, rather than later. Sociality among your peers, and yourself, can make you something your not, for better or worse. But the choice wasn't yours. We seem to involuntarily slot ourselves into these social groups, by association. You were never much like any of them, but you played the role well. So well, in fact, that the habits you adopted marred your future. Your weekdays at school were spent planning the weekend, and when Friday did come, you wished it all to be done. And the cycle would repeat, week after week, year after year.

You never much liked any of them, they were all too similar. Except for your boys. Your introduction to them, so long ago, has fuzzed in your mind. Without pictures, you truly wouldn’t be able to recall any memory without them. And you couldn't conjure up a reality without them in it, so you kept on. The parties were fun, until you got there. And the drama, well, that never sounded like much of a good time. But you put up with it because you spent time with your closest friends, and that was all that you really cared for.

And your grades suffered. And you moved into a new house with your Mom. But you had a car, so you didn't have to spend much time at home. You never did help her move out. While all else remained the same, it seemed as though your life had changed so much. And it did. But you didn't tell your closest friends, because you used to talk down on divorced families with them. An insult that used to make you and your friends burst into tears, your parents don't even love each other anymore. 

You would tell your friends that your brother had the Xbox, so you couldn't get on. But you sat in your car all night long at the end of the street, listening to silence, waiting for the woman's car to leave your dad's house, because you couldn't bring yourself to see him with another woman. But she never left. 

And you stepped out of the room if your mom called while you were with your friends, just in case she was called to ask if you were at Dad’s. But you knew that they knew. Because you never heard another joke about it. You just didn't want to look them in the eyes and talk about it. You still never have.

You tried to keep up with everyone around you. The parties were still thrown, but you left ten minutes into each one. And you started to get bitter. You hated almost everyone, and you sure did show it. But you didn't care much at all if people knew that you didn't like them, it truly did bring a smile to your face.

    Junior year came rolling to a close, and you left for spring break, as rumors filled the halls of the cancelation of the rest of the school year due to COVID. And you didn't realize how rough the next eight months would be.

    Realization kicked in around the time you got rushed to the E.R. Some kind of panic attack, you laid down on the cold table with your Dad standing over you. You sobbed your eyes out, and only a moment later, you were laughing hysterically. As though you had just heard the funniest joke. But the nurse wasn't laughing with you as she plunged a shot of Xanax into your thigh.

    You threw all those years down the drain. Those thoughts and goals that you had, suppressed by your immaturity, never bore fruit. And you hated yourself for that. And the thought of letting others expectations of you down, that frightened you. But, in reality, those were your own expectations.

    But you have something they don't have. You failed miserably, and at the perfect time. You screwed it all up, the past four years of your education, and you get to start it all over next year. With a blank slate. And nobody knows what you're capable of, except for you. Maybe that's a bad thing, but it's best to think of it as a blessing. And you’ve learned to not care what others think of you, even if you still do every now and then. Because if there is one thing in the world that should give you assurance, it's that they all sleep like dead men, the same as you and I.