i dont exactly know what it is about history. why its the only class i feel comfortable enough to cry in. i'm falling apart here and no one knows me well enough to see it. i didnt have a good day, much less a bad one. it was a day like any other. math french lunch band history. but history is where the magic happens. we took a test today, europe, map and it was hard. i lacked in the studying area. i knew the countries well enough. cities and landmarks not so well. i finished the test. and sat down. the words to Tiny Dancer overflowed my brain. molecules of salt hydrogen and oxygen fill my eyes. and it drops. a single tear d. r. o. p. s. it dropped. and it was followed by many others. and i was sure they were changing colors with each that dropped a new shade of clear. i took out a letter from sarah elizabeth marie frank. and read it three times and each time they dropped. more and more and more and they never stopped.