I want to stop feeling bitter about high school. I’m in college now. It was a year ago.

But one year isn’t that long. Everything is still fresh. I just cleaned the damn wound, now it’s trying to heal. And it doesn’t help when reminders of that hurt is shoved back in my face.

I get to see “omg my high school memories are this person, this person and that person!” posted by my “best friends” and be reminded that I’m not that person. I’m not the person embedded in their memories when they nearly all of mine. The ones I like, at least.

It’s bullshit.

Especially because many of the memories they reference happened when I needed them. I know, because I heard the stories and saw the evidence from the backseat of the car when I invited myself along and they talked in the front seats and played music I couldn’t hear their voices over.

It’s so easy to write, right here and right now. To the internet, to myself, to strangers, and to a few people from real life—but those people understand. Mostly.

I can tell the world in a post like this. But I can’t tell the people I called my “best friends.”

I want to be the bigger person. I’m almost always the bigger person. But it’s pretty damn hard to be that person right now.

Because I’m still the bitter person and I don’t want to be.