Lisa and Rags are the best.
November 17th, 2007
I wish I didn't have any regrets in life. That way I wouldn't regret what I wrote in you on Friday. But then again, you're just a diary, right? You're not a person; you don't have feelings about what I write, and you can't judge me for what you see in here. But that doesn't stop me from being ashamed of what I wrote on Friday.
That theater group I talked about is completely lame. Starting with the teacher, who is almost forty and downright arrogant, and ending in a freak who I met there that breathed through his mouth and kept hitting on me all night – it was all a complete disaster.
But this week I don't seem to care anymore about it because school was weird and tense and surprisingly uncomfortable for Edward, which was something I enjoyed watching. A lot.
And you know why? Because Rosalie and Emmett made it official.
And I didn't even feel shock, since Edward's expression when he saw them together was priceless. But after feeling satisfied enough with the fact that he was suffering just a little, I got upset. He was upset that day because he loves her. And that will never be me, right?
Anyhow, I barely looked at him. And anytime he tried to smile or glance at me, I looked away and pretended to be busy with my cell phone. Yes, I'm not a coward or remotely pathetic.
Right.
Alice has been fun, as usual, except for the part where she spaces out when I'm talking to her. I should probably be offended or something, but I do the same thing whenever I think of Edward, which – of course – leads me to think that Alice is in love with someone.
That's great, right?
Everybody's happy and moving on, except for me. And, well, Edward, who is still hanging on Queen Bitch. Sucks to be him.
Sucks even more to be me.
B.S.
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