I don’t think she meant to do it, she didn’t know it would last forever. She had this amazing laugh that when she started at the wrong time, milk would come out your nose. I don’t blame her, never really did. But when it was the worst, I didn’t understand why she did nothing to stop it either. That’s what best friends were supposed to do, wasn’t it? But then how could she have known that the way her friends treated me was so cruel that at night all I prayed for as I said my prayers was that maybe that night, God would just let me die in my sleep and I wouldn’t have to wake up to go to school again. She couldn’t have known that when she laughed when the other girls put gum in my hair and threw things at me, that she hurt me deeper than their cruelty. She was only 12.
He couldn’t have known that every time he told the gym class we were going to be playing baseball I felt my soul want to throw up. It was the only sport at that time that both girls and boys played together and I am sure he didn’t understand how horrible it felt to be the last one standing, waiting for someone to please call your name for a team. Looking at each of the other kids standing there with their team of chosen friends laughing and watching the “Captain” trying to look around to see if there was anyone else on the planet he could pick besides me. I usually tried to make him feel better by saying it was ok, I had a headache or some other appropriate illness that would require the coach to let me sit on the bench and watch as the other kids raced around the bases. It was much better there than the days when forced kickball was inflicted on me and there was no hiding on the bench, but just standing there waiting for the balls to come hurling at your head. It was going to happen and you just had to brace yourself for that huge red rubber ball to come knock the wind out of you. He couldn’t have known that from then on, I hated sports, hated gym class, and would avoid it at all costs.. it would lead my body to gather weight and spurn on even more teasing from the kids and a deeper loathing of living.. God was cruel for not letting me die. He was just doing his job, being a teacher.
Some don’t come for help; they sit and watch the world silently. They see the world as a place that just keeps getting worse and there’s no hope of it ever getting better, this is it. Sometimes trying to hide the pain behind laughter, pushing it all away down deep inside a book that will take you away to some other place where nobody calls you “The Fat Girl” or holds their nose when you walk by. The ones who hurt the deepest don’t want to hurt anyone else, they don’t want to bother parents or grandparents by letting them know how dark their world really is. They don’t want to cause anyone else to look at them and smother them with reasons of why “Kids can be cruel” or advice on letting it “roll off your back” because if it were that easy, we would have thought of it already, nobody thinks as much as we do.
Some don’t come back from that dark place, they let it become who they are and consume them. They find ways of making the hurt go away, making the laughter of others sound funny, they push that sick feeling up front and use it as fuel for their anger against the world. There are others however that just realize, God will never let this end.. and take matters into their own hands.
She didn’t know it would get better; that someday she would feel so wanted that she’d wish for time for herself just to think. She had no idea that when your best friend suddenly wasn’t anymore and you felt so alone that nothing could ever make it better, that one day she’d understand what her daughter was going through and sit with her head in her lap and stroke her hair and just listen. That girl had no idea that if she hadn’t woke up, she’d never love so deeply that her eyes would fill with tears of happiness more often than sadness. She just felt so alone and wanted just to be picked for something. She just waited, endured pain after pain, grew stronger with each stupid joke and found her inner strength in the strangest places. She grew up, learned to love herself and was then loved by others.
It does get better, I promise. I know the hurt is so strong right now that you just want to pull away and leave it all behind. There’s no other thought but to want to retreat to the safety of your own backyard where you know nobody will taunt you and knock you down. But those days will pass, you will find your voice and learn to sing your own song. And if you need someone to pick you, I will.. you can always be on my team because you are beautiful.
Reposted from May 3, 2012
- Identical Tears (callmeksaap.wordpress.com)