This of course, is the teacher that I met for coffee yesterday. However awful it made me feel, I knew deep down that saying yes I’d meet her was a good idea. At the same time that meeting a teacher for coffee in town was rather awkward, I also felt an overwhelming sense of relief upon seeing her. Since leavers, I’ve tried not to talk too much to my best friend about how I feel about what happened and her health. I’ve tried to agree with the comments she makes whilst not making too much of a commitment. I knew that this coffee would be different, because I could say exactly what I wanted to. This time, however, it would be safe. In the past, I’ve wanted to talk, but I wouldn’t for fear of letting the secret slip. Now, there is no secret. And talking made me feel amazing.
The teacher told me that at my age, her best friend went through the same thing. She told me that she felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, and she didn’t want me to feel the same. She said that she was so proud of me for telling an adult, because it’s the one thing she could never do. She told me that moving away to university wouldn’t mean that I lost my support network, and that they’d always still be here for me. Finally, I no longer feel alone.
She told me not to worry, and for what feels like the first time ever, an adult told me that my grades don’t define me, and I’m much more of a person than those three little letters on Thursday. It’s a shame my parents can’t think that too.
I’ve still got everything crossed for Thursday though, I’m keeping busy and distracted, and I just pray that it’ll all work out okay.
Living. Laughing. Loving.