72: 2.49 am
I am not in love with him. Nor do I wish to be in love with him.
I regret not starting high school afresh; not that the circumstances I was in had made it any easier. People from primary school still surrounded me. I viewed high school as a more advanced version of primary. I was wrong.
Now people view me as the weird girl who fell in love with the boys’ school’s most hated student.
It’s quite terrible, actually. I don’t even like that guy anymore.
Ah, late-night angst.