Every summer, I mope around the house, complaining to myself how I never spoke to the girl I spent all school year infatuating over. By August, I'm telling myself I'm going to go up to her and say something come September, knowing I never will. Instead, I'll just feel worse and worse, by my own fault, before giving up, until someone else comes along, and I do the same thing.
This brought back every summer of mine while in high school. I'd be depressed if I didn't realize that, now that I'm ten years past graduation, high school was just prison for youth. Bah... I hated high school. I hate summer even more. I like a little cold weather. I can't wait until Winter.
