Sanity Bakery

This is a new feeling. I’ve never felt so low before, not ever. It isn’t depression, I don’t hate myself, and I’m not feeling worthless. It’s just that I’d always been told that I wouldn’t have to worry about scholarships, that I wouldn’t have to pay for my own schooling and wouldn’t have to burden my mother, either.

I think, perhaps, those optimists were wrong. It doesn’t help that I planned rather poorly; I did not visit Shimer in time to compete in their scholarship competition, mainly because I didn’t know about the competition or expect to be heading to college in the fall, and I’ve missed most other deadlines for outside scholarships. Shimer is located on the same campus as an Air Force ROTC corps, but because AFROTC has no agreement with Shimer I can’t get a scholarship or even be a cadet unless I choose a new school. But having been there, and seen what it was like, I’m not giving up. I don’t want to miss a single year I could be spending with these people, which is why I want to do the Early Entrant program instead of graduating.

But I could really use a hug, a cup of tea, and someone to tell me I’ll find a way.

I’m constantly struggling with friendship. It’s hard for me, and I’ve never been sure why. I’m a loyal sort of person, and I love my friends dearly. I may not fall in love easily, but I do love easily. But somehow it seems hard for others to love me back.

Love is an action. The feeling is wonderful, exciting, dizzying–but that’s all. It’s just a feeling. Unless there’s action behind it, dedication, then it’s nothing. I want someone to be dedicated to me, to call me and ask how I’m doing. To make time for me. To listen, to care. To make the effort!

Unfortunately, that’s harder than it sounds. We all have so many friends that it’s hard to be commited to those on the periphery, the ones that aren’t so important. And, unfortunately, that’s often where I fall. Distance, closeness, differences–I don’t know why,  but I’m not most people’s best friend. I take second place if I’m lucky, more often third, but usually near last. I was recently deemed less important than a hat, or rather the bother of putting one on. Not my best day.

But today, I have scored a partial victory! Let the roosters crow with delight, let it be sung triumphantly from the rooftops! Or, perhaps, the fire escapes; the roofs are a bit slippery just now, what with all the ice.

Let me explain. About seven months ago, sometime last summer, I sent my best friend a letter containing a self-addressed stamped envelope. He had called me maybe once in the past year, and he hadn’t written for ages either. But he’s usually a bit better with letters than telephones, especially if I write first. So I decided to make things really easy on him. Well, he finally did it! He finally wrote me back!

Sort of. Today I got a letter from his mother, including a very short note, a very pretty bookmark, and a very cool newspaper article about his electric car team that he asked his mother to send me. How lovely.

Damn it, why is it so hard for him? I don’t want a letter from his mother. I don’t want a phone call from his mother. I love his mother, she’s very dear to me and I like talking to her, but I want the effort to come from my best friend.

Why am I not worth it?