Dear Bully

Dear Bully,

I imagine if people around you ever see through your facade? If they see you like I do? Abusive. Unforgiving. Manipulative. Cold. Ice.

Your words cut me, they scar me and they destroy me. Bit by bit. I can feel them seeping into my skin as your hurl insults my way. They loom over my head every day. Every minute. They keep reminding me of what you think of me. They don’t let me grow. They crawl on my back as I lay down to sleep, they echo in my head as I dream, they suffocate me as I try to breathe, they latch onto every thought I have. They trap me. And I’m stuck. I’m sinking and I’m drowning…and I’m alone.

Sticks and stone may break my bones but your words kill me.

 

I picture myself strolling down the streets of Old City as I sip on a warm latte on a cold rainy day in yellow rain boots, with a book tucked safely in my tiny back-pack. Without a care in the world. Without a care of who might see me and what they might think of me and how that will reflect on you.

I wonder what it feels like? It must be so nice, I imagine, to have the freedom to be yourself. It’s such a harmless, easy thing. There’s always someone telling you to be yourself. It seems like the simplest of the things to do. But I’m bound by shackles of this society that dictate every aspect of my life. And thing is, I don’t care about the society. I don’t. But you do. And I have to care about what you think and deem fit…Its a vicious cycle.

You make me miserable. I’m as sad as I am angry. It angers me because you think you’re invincible since you’re in a position where I can’t hold you accountable for all that you do? You have the audacity to believe that time will always be in your favor. You actually think that the universe will forget what you do to me? To her, to him, to us? Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Because, change is inevitable. And time is always changing. Its in your favor now, but it won’t be forever.

There will come a day when you can no longer control every aspect of my life. One day I will dye my hair pink and I will wear those tacky jeans and I will be me. I will not care for what you have to say. The part of me that still craves for your approval will die and I will be free. Free of your abuse and free of the toxicity that is your entire being. One day I will no longer be the weak girl that I am today.

In an ideal world, you don’t exist for me. You’re another forgotten face in a large crowd. But then it would be someone else with a different face and relationship…I hope the world rids of you all. Bullies. I have moments when I pray that you just go away. Die? I don’t know, I pray that you disappear and I have to never see you ever again. But I’m not that person who wishes death on another. Don’t you see, what you’re doing to me? Why are you so full of hate that you feel the need to make me feel the same way towards you, towards my life? You make me curse the heavens above that I was born in the same world as you do. You bring out the unforgiving and bitter person in me. But I’m not that person who is unforgiving and bitter.

I want you to know something: I will never forgive you. Even when you’re not apologetic to begin with. Even when you’re so incredibly full of yourself. And even when I see that flash of guilt on your face for a fleeting moment. Even when the day comes when the reality of what you have done to us sinks in and you’re sorry. A part of me will always loathe you for being you. I hope you know that when you look into my eyes and say what you have to.

I want you to know this and never forget this.

(Not) Yours,

Helpless, Weak &  Broken