i like stories

so be kind.

Over the past semester, I heard from a few different people about how people thought I was cool and wanted to be my friend but were scared or something. It made me feel strange and sad because people were mean to me in middle school. I was an outcast.

It was partly my fault because I didn’t want to seem presumptuous and upfront. But everyday during lunch I sat somewhere and read. I felt ashamed of myself because I was a “loner”. I talked to people a lot in class, but I didn’t hang out with them during lunch because I was afraid of being told to go away. It was an unreasonable fear, but I never thought of that. People thought I was weird because I did other weird things, too, like walk around barefoot and garble when I was frustrated… yeah. It made me very sad and I wanted to die and cried about 5 times a week.

This lasted until 8th grade when this girl forced me to hang out with her group, which I wanted to but was scared to take any initiative. And even then I hated the circles people formed to talk, which is fine in itself, but middle schoolers are cruel and would purposely ignore others trying to join the circle. I also heard from some people they would have liked to be friends but didn’t know how to talk to me, which really made me feel regret. I still see it happen. But it’s worked out for good; I’m a better person to others because I know what it feels like to be snubbed. Sometimes certain things that remind me of that time hurt, though. I would have been embarrassed to talk about this a few months ago. It hurts to think about.

Some of those same people who were unkind to me in middle school through small gestures and looks are the same people I was told about who thought I was some cool kid. It made me remember middle school. It feels very strange. I don’t have any old resentments and I wouldn’t treat those people any differently. But it makes me slightly sad.

I resolve to have lunch with people who look like they might need a friend!