Author's Note: Alright. Here is the last chapter of If You Really Knew Me. The teacher isn't really saying this. It's just an essay I wrote.
Sitting there, with your glazed eyes and blank expression.
I don't know what brought you here, or what made you decide on reading this little story of mine.
In truth, I don't know anything about you.
I don't know what you look like, where you're from, what your name is, or why you feel the need to read this.
So I won't be able to judge you.
I won't be able to take anything away from you; I won't be able to tell you anything that can make you feel insecure; I won't be able to take in the faults in your life and I won't be able to use those faults against you. I have no idea who you are.
But I know there's something about you that you don't like.
One of you might think that you're fat.
One of you might think that you're ugly.
One of you might think that you're stupid.
One of you might think that you're alone.
One of you might think that you aren't loved.
Well, whoever you are, I'm proud of you. I want you to know that you're beautiful and amazing and you deserve the best in life.
All of us here, present on this human earth, have insecurities and things we'd like to change or alter in our lives, like in our appearances or in our mannerisms that aren't so charming to the modern day society. Some of us would rather be someone else all together instead of who we are at the present.
Everyday, we are battered with judgement from those who look at us and make negative opinions on who we are.
Everyday, we are reminded of what we don't like in ourselves until we reach the point of wanting to erase that one small thing completely.
Everyday, there are people out there who tell us that we aren't good enough until we reach the point of being atelphobic.
Some of you may be saying "You don't know what it's like," or "Why would you care?"
I do know what it's like. I care because I don't want anyone to reach that point in life where you're at rock bottom, and everything and everyone seems to make your life even more of a living hell.
Let me ask you this: when you're at your lowest low, where else can you go?
I want to be one of the foundations below you, supporting your weight and bringing you higher to reach those glimmering stars. I want to be the rock that steadies and holds you up when you feel like falling towards the ground. I want to be the one to pick you up and raise you higher. I want to be one of those anonymous good Samaritans that can save people even in just the simplest ways.
Let me be your rocket to the stars.
When you're at a low point in life, when the rain pours down on you and all you want to do is drop down to the ground from the strain of bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders, at any point in time, I want to be here for you. I don't know you. I don't know how to talk to you. I don't know how I'll be able to reach you from my little confined space.
But I want to bring the sun back in your life.
I don't know how, but I want to be able to tell you everything that can make you feel better.
There are so many things that I want you to know.
And I won't give up until the beating of my heart ceases.
So let me start by telling you this.
Society's words won't bring you down. Some of you may say to yourself "'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.' What a lie." Well, society's words are the equivalent of shredded bits of blank paper. There's no meaning behind them and the only place they're going is the dump. Their words bear no true meaning. Their words are the work of envy. What they say to you when they try to bring you down are words that come from insecure minds. But blowing out another person's candle won't make theirs any brighter.
I don't know if you're one of the people who try to alter themselves to get approval. I don't know if you're one of the people who has to appear tough when deep down inside you're a softy. I don't know if you're one of the people who want to escape from everything that's holding you down. I don't know if you're one of the people who hide who they really are because everyone would make fun of you. I don't know if you have to hide your love for someone else just because it doesn't "suit your image". I don't know your painful past that no one actually knows about. I don't know your secret fetishes. I don't know about the things you do to console yourself. I don't know whether or not you lie whenever you're asked if you're fine.
I just don't know.
But all of those things? Society's made you like that.
Society makes you hide who you really are. It makes you pretend to be someone you're not. First, it grabs your heart and makes you think that you're accepted. Then it squeezes down on your heart, slowly, with so much force, until you can't take it anymore and you break. But it doesn't let go of its grip on you. It keeps on crushing down on the broken pieces of who you are until you just fade and dissolve into absolute nothingness, to be taken by the winds and forgotten for all eternity.
That's what it does to you.
Well, you know what?
Go against all the rules and give it a hard time clamping down on your insides. Give them something to talk about and break loose of the hand that suffocates your breathing. Use the strength that's lurking inside of you to crash through their grip. Their hold on you is as strong as you think it is.
So if you think it's weak, then it's weak.
Defy the odds and show everyone who you are. If they don't like it, that's their problem. They just have to deal with it. If they think you're obnoxious or a fool, then they'll complain and start trying to get a hold on you once again until you let them. Never let them. Keep your arms spread wide, open to all their insults and negativity, but still protecting you from the confines of that iron grip that'll keep on suffocating you until you're nothing more but dust.
Believe in yourself.
To wish that you were someone else is to waste the perfect person you already are.
Yes, you are.
You always have been.
I can see it even from my little corner of the world.
I know there may be thousands of miles between us, and I've never really met you, but I can tell that whoever's reading this is an amazing person.
Broken or not on the inside, you can be fixed and you'll work even better than before. You can be as good as new with just the right words to stick all those perfect pieces together again.
Unattractive or a work of art, you're beautiful to me even if I can't see you.
I can't put everything into words, and even if I could, it wouldn't make sense. My mind would just keep on rambling on and on non-stop. So, I'll just end everything with these last few words:
You are amazingly perfect, and there are no words to describe how beautiful and incredible you are. If anyone thinks otherwise, that person is an idiot and doesn't deserve to know someone like you.
Believe in yourself.
And don't let society bring you down.
Author's Note: WEEE! It's done. It's just an essay, but believe my words. I don't know you, but I believe in you. I believe in you even if you've already stopped believing in yourself.