It's a flood of memories when there's grammar mistakes.

I was going to rant about history and how we obviously never learn from our mistakes, but then suddenly, all these memories overflowed my mind, and it was, as sad as it is, more real than the flood in Indonesia or the earthquake in Haiti. And my heart hurts.

It hurts for those hot summer days when everything's too humid and too sticky and the ice pop's melting rapidly in your hand but it's worth it because the little girl's lying in your lap and playing with your hair. It hurts for that one breeze that just halts your movements and pulls out a sigh of relief. It hurts for all that chalk those kids wasted on me, that vicious shirt-eating thing that crumbled colors and drew smiles. It hurts for that day when I was dressed in the same clothes I'm dressed in now, this blue tanktop and white shorts, when I looked in the mirror and pretended to love my (un)luscious lips and became a star on Shocco's next top model. It hurts for that six flags trip that ended up brining my personal fitness grade down five points because I skipped a day of summer school, but it's okay because we rode Goliath three times and that's all that matters. It hurts for those endless nights of fountain hopping on Stanford's campus, when it was too cold to stand in the water but we did it anyway so that the hot chocolate could taste better afterwards. It hurts for those nail-painting sessions and the fumes that nearly suffocated me, but that was a really pretty gold. It hurts for the park across from Vanderbilt. It hurts for that night when the clouds moved across the sky faster than I imagine jet planes to move, as if they were going on an important excursion to some important place, like heaven. It hurts for the days at the pool, the pizza consumed, the frisbees thrown. The somersaults before frisbee games. The countless korean circle games, most of which I don't even remember. The putt-putt that never gets old. The lake that's too dirty to swim in but perfect for paddle boating. The fresh smell of those rooms, the chilling air conditioning that's always too cold, or too hot, the stiff beds, the Kix. It hurts for those girl conversations late at night, with all flavors of Mochi ice cream and all kinds of poker games to play afterwards.

It hurts, but it's soothed. I'm so at peace when I listen to this korean music that's playing right now and remember all those great memories. Whirlwind, Nashville, Shocco, Stanford... I'm so ready for summer. I can taste it. Everything already feels lighter. And brighter.

And I'm going to miss those seniors so much. I don't think you understand the extent to which how different it'll be next year. I'm going to be the big (wo)man now... I never thought I'd actually reach this point. I never thought it'd come. But it's coming. Holy crap,

There's only two more weeks of school.