kitkatkatie6
Last year I was in eighth grade. A wonderfully mature boy decided it would be amusing to stick a paper clip into an outlet during class. Sparks flew. Literally. We had to stay five minutes into lunch for a lecture about safety and he got detention, but I could tell our teacher secretly thought it was hilarious.
The route Derek took was a familiar one. He walked down his driveway, towards the grocery store, and past the street sign. He went into the woods and over the rock in the the middle of the creek. He went to a place that was his own. A place he knew he was safe from the teasing and mockery of the rest of his life. Derek's route took him home.
I think a lot about whether or not it is possible to alter your fate. I believe it is. I don't think that you have a life course that you are going to follow, that your choices are already all made for you. The idea is rather creepy. I don't want someone else making my choices. I want to be the only person to control my life.
Rejection hurts.
I've never been rejected.
Hell, I've never even dated anyone.
Still, rejection hurts.
I've seen other people get rejected,
Deal with break-ups and make-ups,
fake-ups and shake-ups.
And it hurts.
Not just them, all of us.
I hurt when I see people rejected.
Or when people have to be the rejecters.