My winter break is very lonesome.

I remember why I hated high school now. 1) the pressure to do well and get into college was too stressful. 2) It was uncomfortable (although that uneasiness got better with time at least) with a certain someone who was everywhere I looked. 3) I was easily forgotten among my “friends.”

I never think back too much, but when I did today, it made me very sad. I remember one time I cried in second period and no one noticed, or perhaps, no one cared. I tried my best to cut off my tears, but I felt horrible that day. Although it was somewhat of a blessing for no one to have taken notice (that usually leads to me crying harder), I still felt alone. Invisible. I think that’s the best memory that defines my high school experience. Being there but not being very noticed.

I was really excited for winter break to come a week ago, but now that I’m on it, I remember why I didn’t like it here in the first place. I mean, I love my home and my family. It’s one of the most comforting places. Peaceful, quiet, I sleep in all day. But it’s also lonely here. Without worrying about school, seeing my dorm friends every day, I don’t really have much to do at home. I forgot about that. I guess all I wanted was a break from all that school work. Now I’m ready for it again though, and I wish break was shorter. Too bad break is three weeks long.

I feel it again: that isolation. I guess I’ll try to keep myself busy till school starts.

I was looking forward to going to Six Flags, but I think it’s going to rain on Monday. My mom didn’t seem very approving (rain + theme park = bad). When I discovered it is going to rain on Monday, I also realized it’s my birthday on Monday. Wow. I wonder if Mack forgot my birthday again or if he planned it to be then. Eh, he probably forgot. It was a spontaneous kind of thing—“Let’s go next Monday.” Oh well, if we ever end up going, it’ll have to be after Monday when it stops raining. I’ll ask everyone else later if they can go.

Birthdays seem less special to me now, ever since last year’s. Somehow, every passing birthday seems less important. At least it saves me the disappointment when things don’t go right. Breaking the whole “party on my birthday every year” tradition last year seems to have set some kind of chain reaction. I don’t feel like continuing it anymore.