Gone

I'm not sure what this is supposed to be.

Am I supposed to give a play by play of this past week? Is there anyone who doesn't already know about how drum major tryouts went and how Lizzie and Darcy finally kissed and that I was sad for most of the week? Does anyone care that I was having the best day ever on Thursday until I blew through an intersection after school and hit a car? Who even wants to know about how I cut my hair and picked out knew glasses and was angered by books and tv shows?

Do I talk about what it felt like to rank my band children, to see some them so disappointed while others were so happy? Or how I felt listening to my English teacher talk about testimonies and quoting scriptures? Or how my fear seemed to slip away as I discovered some amazing courses BYU offers?

Do I feel bad for myself for being so unkind to Logan this week and then divulge on how he was the first to know I crashed because I straight up called him and apologized after telling him I hit a car because I wanted him to know something about my life for once and how he actually laughed because he had no idea what to do and that that inopportune laugh was truly what I needed most on that day exactly two and a half years after Micaiah crashed in his car?

Do I make a list of things I'm grateful for? I should. Will I? Satan tells me I can't.

Do I just shut up?

Do I talk about The Picture of Dorian Gray, a beautifully terrifying piece of literature about art and beauty and sin and how sometimes all three connect and how half the time I was reading it, I was thinking of things I could discuss with my future English students about it?

Do I tally up how many cookies I ate today and feel fat?

Will I ever shut--