Looking back at old diary entries are both therapeutic and embarrassing. I feel so stupid when I see how ridiculous my emotions were in the past (in the recent and not-so-recent). How could I be so foolish? I realize I am young, and that I have so much more to learn, but when I see how I felt about boys, relationships, interests, I figured I had moved out of high school. But according to my words on pages, my emotional maturity is still stuck in the awkward stages between freshman and senior year of high school.
It's time to graduate.
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