subject line: the email i hoped i'd never want to write


probably not the high road

Objectively, I have no right to complain. Realistically, I still will. This is high school, after all.
It’ s supposed to be the year of making memories with friends, going to the last pep rally, playing in the last game, going to prom for the last time. Instead, it’s been the year of weekly exclusion and fake friends trying to act as if everything is fine. Here’s a note to the people who’ve let me down time and time again: pretending you had nothing to do with my exclusion does not mean you are actually innocent. Time after time, you willingly and enthusiastically went to the parties, the dances, the movies, knowing that I was purposefully not invited. Your half hearted platitudes to reach out to you if I ever “needed to talk about things” may have helped you feel better, but I was still bored and alone every night. Apparently I made the cut for “school friend”, but when it came to parties you all “thought a smaller group would be best”. Even when the group was only smaller by one. You pretended you didn’t know that there was a problem, and I pretended your utter lack of character didn’t destroy the fourteen years of memories I shared with you. Apologizing if I felt excluded without acknowledging the reality of my exclusion doesn’t make you look magnanimous, it makes you look like an idiot. But now I’m done. If drinking every weekend and taking pictures where the beer bottles are so artfully hidden is the only way you can reconcile the fact that your lifetime of entitlement has led to mediocracy (at best), then I wish you the best. I’m making new friends, becoming closer to both God and my family, choosing which college to attend next year (I guess the nights in were good for something), and learning to live my best life without the people I initially imagined living it with.