Today, it finally happened-
I finally had that cute little breakdown I was waiting for. I had just dropped off one of my first and only friends in high school, leaving her alone in the Kent Student Center to suffer through waiting in line and awkward conversation, while I foolishly waited around for someone who was long gone. It's funny, I've never had a panic attack before. I've calmed plenty of people down, but never once have I experienced the intense feelings of shortness of breath through a sudden, striking realization. I just want to make a clean escape- I'm leaving, but I don't know where to. I believe this calls for another early morning coffee outing with myself.
The moral of this story: I'm too worn out to think of a moral.
Until next time, stay classy kids.
Short Story: Diner
3 years ago