letter eighteen

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Dear Bully,

It's not your fault I'm a loser.

Or that I'm worthless,

And ugly,

And brain dead.

Its not anyone's fault.

But mine.

So stop acting like the blame lies on you.

Because it doesn't.

I'm not going to listen to you.

So stop telling me to eat.

You called me names today.

But not the usual ones.

You called me beautiful.

And perfect.

I actually let myself listen.

It felt good.

But it didn't last long.

Reality hit.

And that's the thing I fear most.

Reality.

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