or when you have an epiphany.
"who is your emotional fuel?" asked the senior. she was one of the advisers for freshmen, and with a big smile decorated with braces, she always seemed happy.
i thought about what i would answer with when she got to asking for my answer.
definitely not my parents.
not my siblings, nor any other family member.
friends? too few and far between, too partially unknown for me to trust them.
i thought back a couple of months, almost a year, and wondered where i got that fuel. maybe i could figure out an answer.
my mind landed on him. that boy made of stars, of constellations.
i thought of all the conversations we'd had, all of the hope we exchanged.
that boy, he gave me a star. that was the poetry i wished into existence.
the senior turned her question to me, and i felt the same way i did last november: dropped.
i only shook my head.
"anyone?"
another shake. "no one." my vision got blurry.
"i'll talk to you after advisement, okay?"
i weakly nodded in response.
ten minutes later, when the bell rang, i was out of the room before she could speak.
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
Non-Fictionthoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
