"what the fuck why would you take french?"
"dumbass you should’ve taken spanish. where can you use french around here?"
"spanish is just easier."
"lol take latin."
taking french was pretty tough.
the teacher was eh, the tests were hard, the readings were complex, i barely knew anyone.
"i fucking hate this class,"
or that’s what i said at least.
if i believed that, if i truly hated it, do you think i would have stayed for four years?
the teacher was strict, but she cared about us, she cared about me, she really did.
maybe the tests were sometimes unreasonable, and the reading overly complex, but the last bit was definitely not true.
maybe we weren’t close the first year, but now that it’s been four years, i count you all as my friends, my good friends. after a while, it wasn’t even about showing up to speak french, or to learn about the culture…it was to see you all, because i cared about you, and i know you cared about me.
here’s to you French 4.
thanks for everything.