I’ve felt what it feels like to feel alone. I’ve felt what it feels like to feel unwanted. I’ve felt the pain of being judged. All thanks to you.
It all started in the beginning of seventh grade. I met this boy, in which at the time, was your boyfriend. You befriended me only to keep an “eye” on me. You told me, “You’re like my best friend”. You lied, repeatedly, all because of this one boy. I still remember the day when your friends texted me and told me to “back off” because you thought he was losing interest in you because of me. That’s when it began, when he “broke” your heart. I don’t know if I would’ve made it out alive, you tormented me to a point of disgust.
Everyday, you’d pass by only to call me names. You’ve called me absolutely everything one could think of. Ranging from a “slut”, to a “cry baby”. You wrote my name on walls and desks, commenting on how much of a “whore” I was. I hadn’t even had my first kiss yet. But you still kept on. Your parents supported you, babied you, all because they had no idea of who you really were, and still are. I was only 12, turning 13, but you kept consistent with your words. Only 12, and I was already thinking about suicide.
You made rumors, and pressed charges against the very person that you once “loved”. This remained until the end of eight grade. At this point, I was losing. I was losing myself, I was losing my aunt, and I was losing my parents. I cried in school because my aunt was dying from cancer, but you thought it was because of your words. That’s why I was a “cry baby”, to you. I still recall the day I messaged you on Facebook, and apologized, the same day she died. As if it was all my fault. My parents were getting a divorce, and you just kept on. Having no respect for anyone but yourself because you believe you’re the only one who deserves it. That’s a bully, that’s who you are.
The bullying subsided for about a year. We were “friends”, at least that’s what I believed. You asked for answers on the test, you asked me for help with your work. You pretended. It all started again in tenth grade, you came up to me about midway in the school year. Telling me to “keep my nose out of your business”. I was so confused, I don’t talk to any of her friends exactly for that reason. I’d never respect her, but I’d also never what to be part of her dramatic life. I was extremely unaware of what the situation was. I couldn’t stop shaking. That’s when I realized that I didn’t hate you, but despised you. Everything you were, everything you are. You traumatized me, you made me into this person full of anxiety, full of sadness. I wasn’t gonna let you win.
The next year came, I tried my best to ignore you in every possible way. The previous year, I had dated this boy, let’s just call him “Bunny”. I told everything to him, and he told me everything. We hurt in all the same ways, but he left for the summer, and we split. He knew about you, he said he’d “never date” you for what you did. But of course, that was a lie. The only person I connected to, you stole. You made him block me, exile me out of his life, and he probably hates me. That’s why I’m here now, you pass by me in the hallways, and call me a “slut”, while he’s holding your hand. All I say is “thanks”. Thank you for making me feel. I’ve felt. In which, is past tense, in which it means I won’t anymore. I’ve felt pain. But I now feel happiness. I’ve felt insufficient, but now I feel enough. I’ve felt disgusting.. But now I feel beautiful. All because of you.