A letter to my classmates

Recently I have begun to receive bits of correspondence from high school classmates. All of these digital messages are full of exclaimations and friendly wording. Instead of responding to each message individually, I am going to now write a general response.


To You, my former classmates;

I dreaded every day that I was forced to attend public school with you. You teased me until I cried and then you teased me for crying. You tortured me. I held razor blades to my wrists and a handgun to my head, thinking that maybe if I just killed myself, I could make it stop. Those of you who didn't call me a faggot on a daily basis or trip me as I was trying to just walk to my locker, turned the other way and did not defend me or laughed along.

You were all horrible to me, so why after 10 years should we now share cordial conversation? I left the town where I went to high school and have never returned nor looked back, fearing that doing so might turn me into a biblical pillar of salt. You may have some sort of fond memory of me, but I do not share such sentiments for you. To this day when I walk into a crowded room of strangers my chest constricts and I am uneasy, reminded of when I was bombarded by your slurs, spit, stares and even your fists. I am forever scarred by your actions and it has been a slow painful healing process.

I wish you no ill will. I hope you all have wonderful lives, with peace and fulfillment. I hope you have grown to be better people, but I have no reason to correspond with you beyond this letter. There is no memory lane. I forgive you, but I carry your angry 13 year old face with me forever. That was enough. I don't know you now and I don't want to.



Sincerely,

Robert German