dear marisol,
i've always even a bitch to you i'm sorry.
when i first moved and had my weird accent you and nya were the only nice ones to me in math.
you were popular—not to my knowledge as of this time—and you were bubbly and funny and you did dance and you were known for that.
i was such a bitch to you. fuck. now it's kinda funny to look back on, it was so pathetic and stupid and yes i do feel terrible but i'm more baffled to why i even did it.
you were "dating" james and let me get this straight, i didn't even like him so despite this whole thing i did looking like some sort of jealousy plot, i really didn't like him.
i made an account on instagram taking the piss out of you and james and it was so dumb but i thoight nothing of it at the time until you found it, and accused me of it.
all your friends sent me horrible, i mean horrible, threats over text telling me to kill myself. i was eleven years old marisol, i know i fucked you over by taking the piss out of ur stupid primary school relationship but no body deserves to be told to kill themselves, at such a young age too i couldn't comprehend it.
you were at another secondary school, but because of your popularity, word got around that i'd made this account, and people at my school were now harassing me for it—and my this point id apologized to you and admitted everything, we weren't friends again but it wasn't tense any longer.
fast forward to year nine, you were super popular now, the most relevant i think you'd ever been, particularly to boys and older kids. you were attractive and bubbly and everyone adored you because you were so likable, but you were also obnoxious and shoved your opinion down everybody's throats leaving a sour taste in their mouths because you thought you just could.
this was the worst thing i'd ever done to you to this day, i was mean and cruel and ruthless and deep down it was probably based off of insecurities and jealousy and i think about it now and realise through the years seven to eight at secondary school i was there for you—there with you—when you were obsessing and blatantly fantasizing over being one of the popular kids, and now to see you there, to see how you've changed made me uncomfortable and sick because you weren't who you used to be but neither was i.
i chat shit about you over text on a group chat, someone screenshotted it, sent it to you, you sent it to your friends in the year above us, they confronted me in a horrible way at lunch, i got sent to the head office.
fair enough, though, what i said was horrible. i picked on your legs and the way you walked and was mean mean mean so cruel and i feel disgusted for doing it. the worst part was we hadn't spoke for almost a year, you had done nothing to intentionally really hurt me for a long time and i shouldn't have started something again.
i apologized to you, face to face, the next morning. i was sincere and i didn't expect forgiveness but i expected you to listen. you didn't. you'd always been this way, forceful when you wanted to enforce something but never open minded or willing to listen to me, br i understand why, i do.
i apologized countless times, i'm sorry marisol im sorry i'm a bitch i don't know why i did it i'm such a fucking bitch.
you just told me to stay out of your way this year, that you absolutely hated me, but you appreciated whatever i had to say.
you made a point that i was such an uncomfortable person, awkward to confront. of course i fucking was, you were shouting at me in the hallway, you didn't even need to shout to grasp attention, you know i hate attention—but that didn't matter anymore, cos i was a fucking bitch to you.
writing this makes my blood boil. because i was a bitch but because you were too.
i hate you because you ruined my life but i ruined yours first.
i probably deserve it. but during the span of our friendship, i didn't deserve to be the constant shadow of you or always fucking compared to you. you were always marisol and i was just me.
if a guy liked me you'd always say he liked you too, if a guy told me i was pretty he just had to find you prettier.
i was jealous, envious. it was evil of me, i admit it and won't justify my actions.
i am sorry for wronging you, but i am not sorry, and never will be, for hating the person you've become. you're self righteous and wear this crown upon your head because everyone is too scared to stand up to you.
maybe i didn't stand up to you in the right way whatsoever, once more i can't justify what i did, but, you need to learn a lesson from someone bearing your level of confidence and obnoxiousness, that someone isn't me.
sorry.
