Why am I writing you if you were not a pleasant addition to my life? Simple. Because I want to.
After all, you always did what you wanted at my expense. I took it, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t leave wounds to irrigate later.
Calling me darkie, inkblot, nigger… it all fortified my breastplate of righteousness. When you walked up to me and slapped my elementary-aged face for no reason except to get some laughs, my body grew hot like a bonafide member of the X-men. As weird as it sounds, I knew even then that anger was dangerous if left inside of a soul.
Don’t worry — I’m nowhere near bitter and this isn’t a “See where I am now” message. I don’t have time for that. I don’t have anything to prove to you. My life is enough. My peace is my proof.
I do want to thank you for strengthening my chops. It made me bend so I wouldn’t break and and it concentrated my self-discipline. My mental prowess is as sleek as a panther now. My vocabulary expanded the shortstops of your lips and that’s all because your teasing made me generate responses I was too scared to say… so they germinated and lied in waiting for future situations.
You were good for me. I hated the experience, but your bullying was great training ground.
You don’t know it, but I prayed for you… relentlessly and despite my tears. My mother made me. It was a hard lesson to learn, but I’m glad she did. It prepared me to dig up and dismantle bitter roots sooner than later.
So, I truly hope you are doing well and that the wounds you were hiding or the evil you were hoarding have been flushed out of your life. I hope to see you soaring and not in the same toxic state of mind. I pray no one else is disintegrating from your actions and you and God are best friends. Everyone makes mistakes — some enough to burn a hole in your heart… but even they should have forgiveness on their plate.
Thank you again. You were a blessing. Peace and Blessings to you and your families.
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