*grumbling*, FINE, I’ll write a goodbye post, but I won’t like it.

I’ve spent oodles of poodles of time thinking about how I could say goodbye. If I should be sarcastic or sentimental or poetry. (Side note, this is not a poetry blog). And no matter how many multiple waking hours I’ve spent thinking about how to say goodbye, nothing good enough came to me.

And so, I just won’t.

I’ll just throw my green composition notebook on the ground and leave the room.

It won’t be the first time.

…

Okay so it would be the first time. And I think we all know that there’s no way I can pass up a chance to talk.

So that scene I just described of my leaving the room?

It was fake!

In fact, it was faker than fake!

I tricked you didn’t I?

But we’re getting distracted.

…

When I walked into creative writing that first day of third term,

It was so quiet.

But I had made myself a promise that I would make friends in this class.

I wouldn’t let my social anxiety ruin the great time I was about to have.

But walking into the class, I could feel the anxiety grabbing a hold of me.

I sat down in a chair, and even though I recognized some of you, I almost backed out on my promise.

I was about to stare at my lap and settle in to the silence.

I hate silence.

But then,

Someone smiled at me.

And that was all it took.

I launched into a conversation, introducing myself, asking everyone’s names, repeating them over and over so that I could remember them.

(I’ve always been terrible at names)

I could tell everyone was a little startled.

And I was too

But during the 75 or 76 minutes we had together that day,

I became

Less

And less

Anxious.

Ever since that first day,

Creative Writing 1, period B6, in Mrs. Gulls classroom,

was a happy place

a safe place

and I loved that place

because of all of you.

So instead of saying “I miss you”

(I think that much is obvious)

Instead, I’ll say thank you.

Thank you for making me a better person.

On that first day

and every day after it

Thank you

…

Now you maybe thinking, so who is this person we’re talking about?

Or you’re thinking, that wasn’t what I was thinking!

I would be curious to know if any of you figured it out, so if you did, you should tell me. If you want to.

I figured out who lots of you guys were, if anyone’s wondering.

Unless you don’t count people telling me what their blog was as figuring it out,

in which case I did not figure out who you guys were.

So lets see…

I’m in the B6 class, but I already told you that.

I was part of the fantasy group

You know, the one that sang a group song to the tune of Under The Sea and threw mint gum at you guys?

Um… one time I spent the entire scribble time talking about how celebrities grossed me out because they’re old, and how the all the guys at Skyridge were way cuter (okay, I didn’t say that last part out loud at the time)

I asked a lot of pointless questions, and laughed a lot more in class than anywhere else.

I’m not a bean,

I’m a human.

I wear pants.

I’ve got a white highlight in my hair,

And no, I don’t dye my hair, it just grows like that.

I don’t know if that’s enough hints to know who I am, so I’ll just tell you instead.

I’m Ally

The keenest teen bean

you’ve ever seen.