Dear Anonymous,
I don't like you.
I no longer hate you, no longer become furious at the very thought of you, but your name definitely leaves a very resentful feeling.
Just the very thought, actually. I've twisted you into an embodiment of everything I hate about myself. The person I hate doesn't exist. They never did.
But you do. You've screwed my head up so horribly, just because of that one very deliberate, very cruel insult. Everything I hated me for, you pointed out and mercilessly spotlighted.
I'm not worthless. I'm trying to tell myself that. I have achieved something huge, and yet, because of you, I can't enjoy it. I exceeded even you, but you're ruining that for me.
I want to forgive you. For my sake. But I can't. What you told me, what your actions jmplied, for six weeks...
I'm not worthless.
I don't hate you. Not anymore. But I do dislike you.
And that's such a powerful motivator.
If you weren't several words I can't type here, would I have pushed myself?
Probably.
So, now that I think about it, I dislike you even more. I probably still would have done this.
But I stutter, I space out, and I get confused.
So, as you've made it all too clear, I'm a waste of space, and I don't deserve to enjoy this. I don't deserve to pollute the world with my "misguided thoughts".
Six weeks was enough of you. Why why why did you have to contact me six months later, just to do this to me?
You don't know. You don't care.
For you, it was just a quick message and the SEND button.
For me, it's been a central reality that I want to forget and move on from, but at the same time, I want to fulfill the impossible dream of seeing you admit your wrong.
Whatever. Keep on living life in your smug hypocrisy. This isn't idle chatter. I have the means to surpass you, age gap or no, and I will rub it in your face at the earliest opportunity. You rubbed my inferiority, my flaws into my face. I'm sinply going to even it out.
And I'll hate myself for it.
-Shanghai Alice