"I'm sorry I'm weird," that's what she told me. She texted me just a few minutes before she hurt herself, before she was admitted to the ICU and her parents took her away from me completely.
I didn't respond. That night I was watching this new episode of that week's favorite show. Shallow, isn't it? I wanted to though, but I was scared again - of giving her advice on how not to be like me. I should have. I should've told her that it was true, she was definitely weird. She smiled in a way that was different from everybody else. She watched these TV shows that didn't trend in twitter. She cried at comedies because she thought of all the laughter she didn't have in real life. She was smart, but she wasn't a geek. She was one of those who actively partook in statements against social issues. She was different, amazing, vibrant - all up until we became friends. I started to tease her about the little things. I guess it was all for fun at first, but thinking about it now, some things I said just because I was jealous. I was petty and a resentful - a typical teenager. That's about it though. That's the farthest I've ever gone. But sometimes you don't understand when it's too late. I also laughed at her when she told me she started getting these bouts of depression. Don't be silly, I said. It's just one of your "artsy moods". She bit her lower lip and stayed silent. I noticed that, but I didn't say anything. In my head, I thought that if I did, I would just be answering her call for attention. I wasn't about to take the bait. And then she slit her wrists.
Everyone in high school's weird, I should've told her. Everyone's always wary of everyone else. It's a culture of shaming. We shame anyone who's different - anyone who's worse off, and anyone who's better than us. We are all jealous, we are petty. But some people don't go through high school at all. Some people just go study, ignoring everyone in the classroom who attends high school. And those we definitely shame too. And we hate them for not caring. Most people graduate. Some not at all. And that's probably one of life's tragedies. Some don't graduate from being victims, from being bullies. Some don't graduate from being just "the popular girl", and some don't graduate from grades. High schoolers don't understand that these qualities they have in their teenage years are just the first few of those that'll start to define them. Some twist these imposing labels and define themselves with them, and they become nothing more, nothing less.
So now I'm begging you. Please graduate from being the victim. Don't let anyone step on you the way I did. Only then will I stop being a bully. Please disappear from my definition. And I'm definitely sorry I didn't fulfill mine to you.