The Pen is Mightier
At the end of my freshman year of high school, my girlfriend broke up with me. She was the only girlfriend I had ever had and it was an understatement to say that I was completely devastated. I had always written a little on my own and had done well in English classes, but I never wrote as much as I did that summer. I was hurt, angry, and feeling incredibly insecure. Writing was my salvation. It was the only way I had to express my feelings because I did not really have anyone to talk to about my feelings and concerns. For the entire summer, I moped around and wrote depressing poems constantly. I was miserable. When school started again, I was not very happy about it at all. I would have to see my ex-girlfriend everyday with her new boyfriend. I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn’t help it. I spent my time alone during lunch reading or writing pieces about the things I dealt with that day in school and about the girl who spun me into this writing frenzy. My classes, for the most part, were not very interesting and I had lost all interest in being at school. My English class was a writing class and the only class that seemed at all appealing at grand ole Woodville High. The teacher, Mrs. Garner, seemed really nice and I thought that it could be a fun semester. She had been the school’s Teacher of the Year for four of the last five years. We were given assignments to write about, but, for a change, the topics we were given were interesting . I was used to writing about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Hemingway, or Poe. Mrs. Garner gave us topics that you could lose yourself in and I actually wanted to do a good job, not just get the assignment done as quickly and as painlessly as possible. The choices we were given for our papers included “Solitude versus Loneliness”, “Never Again”, and “Learning from Failure.” At that time in my life, I felt I could have written epics about all of these topics, so I worked really hard on these...
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