30 Day Letter Challenge

Day Thirteen, I'm Sorry

Dear Jazlynn,

    I saw you today, at the park. I always said if I saw you outside school that you were dead. That I would straight up attack you. You were at cheer leading practice. The people I was with and I made fun of your weight, how you were in the back, and how you could barely do it. Then I remembered this letter challenge.

   I'm not saying I want you to forgive me, I'm saying regardless of everything I'm sorry. I'm sorry that sometimes I make fun of your hair, or your weight, or something else physical. Because that's not right. I apologize for all the times I've openly put you down. All the times it wasn't justified. And I heartily mean this.

  Don't misunderstand me though, I do not like you. I think you can be a terrible person, especially to me. I think you are nosy, pushy, and full of yourself. I believe you think you can control everything, do whatever, and have no consequences. I find you to be a moody person, either that or you're just that fake. Over the years you have made awful comments, and just expected people to agree with you. And normally I gave you the newsflash that, no, it is not freaking ok.

   It's funny actually, because you were my first friend here. You were in my brownies troop. Another funny thing, you're the reason I quit. Because you thought you were so cool. I don't understand how when nobody liked you. Still, nobody likes you. Because they'll pity you, like I did ( I'll explain that later), and then you turn around and act like your sh*t don't stink. Like you're somehow better. People don't like that. The reason you don't have friends is not because you aren't very pretty, it's not because you don't fit in. It's because when people try to talk to you, you are evil.

   The reason I started talking to you again after brownies was because you were in my class, and your only friend transferred. I felt bad that you ate alone. Then you broke your foot, so, even though my friends were against it, you started hanging out with us at school. You used to leave every class, even lunch early. Then when your physical therapist told you your foot was fine you began to complain about it hurting so you could keep it on. You weren't exactly secretive that it didn't actually bother you. You would take the long way back to class from the cafeteria and everything. It really annoyed me, and that's when we started having problems again.

   From you nosing in my friends things when they weren't looking, or making snide remarks, or even palming, yes palming, me in the face, we had our problems. I time and time again threatened you, that's how much I couldn't stand you. And you would think threatening you would make  you leave me alone, but no. In the past year it's gotten worse. From you telling my best friend that, "you want to see me get off my fat a$$ and punch you in the face", to stealing my stuff. When I heard you said that I immediately replied, "Ok, let's meet somewhere and do this if you really want." You said," No, I wanna see you do it in school." Well, no crap you did. You knew I couldn't. In honors, you get suspended and you get kicked out of class. You know you aren't worth that to me.

  Right, this is supposed to be about you forgiving me... Honestly, I pity you. I'm sorry for the times I picked on things I shouldn'tve. I'm not sorry for the things I've said to you about your personality, how you act, or anything I said towards you that wasn't regarding your appearance. Because all of that, I do not have remorse for. I tried being your friend, it didn't work out. I'm willing to try again, as long as you don't take the opportunity to stab me even harder in the back. Every time I leave you alone, you do something that tops the last.

  It sounds like I blaming the whole thing on you, which is probably do to you never could tell me what I did wrong, and the fact i just watched a mob movie. So yeah, I don't precisely wish you could forgive me, but it would be nice. I've said this many a time, I'm done if you are. And again, if not, don't expect me to be nice about it.

    Signed, Typed, Whatever,

        The one who made a supposedly nice letter into an accusational one that sounds kind of twisted and like I can do no wrong. (Sorry again..)

        A.K.A. Mel