Closed.

He asked if I was disappointed.
What could I say, but that I'm a disappointment too. No one ever believes it the first time.

And you thought this would be another depressing post.
Oh wait.

In one sense, nothing has changed. Being admitted to the only college I could imagine truly loving did nothing for how badly I look at myself, how horrendous yesterday was. That insensible hope for a revolution vanished in last night's crawling self-disgust. But now, it hangs, useless, spent – no, it is not spent. I am.

At the same time, I'm so relieved. Those four B's didn't mean I was stupid. Dropping AP French was more than just an act of hot indignation. National Honor Society, WYSE, JETS, who needs those? I didn't have to be a DECA champion or a prodigal student. I could just be me. And some part of this ingenuity got across, and somehow, they accepted it.

...

The darkness really does hide a lot of things. That old vanilla twilight didn't have a single star... there were so many unfilled spaces, so few of those kind of whispers. But maybe this is the way its supposed to be. Maybe this way, I have no mistakes, past to hide. Maybe this way, when I'm hugging my legs to my chest and sighing at the princesses breaking out into song, I'm not thinking about roses and pillows, but a very lucky friendship.

But the darkness also creates closeness, and when the closeness becomes paper thin, shimmering like broken glass, its breaks against the rocks and rushes up the shore. And now, once again, there's no darkness to fill at all.