I finished a short story today. It was a love story between two high schoolers. Bunch of bullshit. But I finished so, yay. I guess I should be more happy. I spent a long time working in this project. The thing is, whenever I finish something this big it feels like everything I've been working for is done. I have nothing left. I feel as though an entire portion of my life has ended. An era. By thinking that I think it makes it true. I feel as though I've entered a new part of my life. Junior year is ahead of me, everything before is history, filled out by a younger version of myself.
Or maybe not. Does it really even matter?
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