That was what life was like at sixteen or seventeen. We would be upset over a drop in our exam scores, yet one piece of chocolate from a good friend could make us happy all day. We would suddenly wonder why our parents couldn't understand what we were thinking, but when trouble came, we'd be the first to hug Mom and cry, or ask Dad for help. And there was that boy we couldn't quite say we liked, but always found ourselves paying attention to, wondering if being a little better might get him to notice us. I think that's what we were like back then: family, friendship, and perhaps the first stirrings of love.
(Actually, this is just me venting because work has been depressing. No transmigration, no transmigration, no transmigration!!!)
Am I really that bad at writing? Somebody, please take care of me!
Plain writing, I really like this feeling, keep up the good work