Writing a letter.

The thing about results is that you get over it quickly even if it's good.
It's the ramifications of it that's truly scary,
And for me
It wasn't the simple happy ending that I thought of at first.

The group leader is spreading rumours about me
The content is of course unknown
But the way I am treated makes it very clear-
She has successfully painted herself as the victim with her slimy and sweet demeanour
And since she did it while everyone else shared the same disappointment,
The effects are a lot more profound,
And the general knowledge that my cca mates have on this is that
The group is really angry at me for being the only one who did well.


Ha...
And I hadn't even told anyone in my class about my grade,
Or have the slightest smirk when it came to my group members.

Suffice it to say
that I spent one night crying myself to sleep because
Certain things in life are unfair, and certain people go overboard with things.
It's not that I should be taking it all in like a silent doormat,
But it's not like I can cut off other people's tongues either.

This is life,
This was
To a certain extent,
Expected.

Of course it doesn't make it right,
But tell me-
How many wrongs are right in this world?


People get away with hurting others;
Karma is a concept used to console ourselves and
The only thing we can do to make it better
Is to look forward, and put in even more effort.

The amount of self-centred interests and jealousy that went into driving this should be something that only harms the perpetrators,
But damn-
Did it affect me.

There is no way that you wouldn't take something like this seriously,
Or 'not let it get to you' because
It does, it really does.
I have no friends to speak up for me-
And by doing such an ugly thing to me
She has essentially waltzed in to place a mark on my reputation.
And it makes a lot more sense now,
The reason why I was greeted with death stares
And sudden hostility.
People don't believe me, because I'm all alone and there's no one who knows me.
Whatever rapport I've established with some other classmates this year,
I've lost, and it's absolutely ridiculous how I am
Blamed, simply for putting in effort and
Being my simple and honest self.

My conscience is clear-
They were the ones who put me in a disadvantageous position
And I was the one who did well despite it all,
Despite having been driven to tears and sleepless nights.
I would have understood the envy if it'd been a fair and square battle,
But I was forced;
You've done shit to me once and now
Even though the odds have ended in my favour

I am still facing shit for a crime I didn't commit,
Not except for being true to myself
And working hard.

Hell,
And the way that I coped was to
Suck it up and move on.
Can't they do the same?
I call it justice, that they despite having bullied me into what I was left with


Still didn't do well.
Ironic, ain't it?
Yet my very situation is caked in layers of that dissatisfying sense of humour.


My very own effort earned me this;
I have no shame, or regret
And the group leader deserved what she got.





Sigh.
Let time and the crazy workload take over then,
I'll be fine.

We all start feeling better some day,
And this is temporary.

There are,
Bigger things in life.




.
'Mom... Am I hugging you for too long?'
'No, of course not.'

'Do you have the flu?'

'Why're you sniffling?'

There it was, another empty space.
And I continued, 'Mom, why're you crying?'


'You're upset, of course I'll be sad too'






I know
When such lines appear in books or movies we tend to
Call it off as an overused cliché
And label it an unoriginal scene, one incapable of moving.

But when you're in the middle of that very same scene,
Not as an actress or a bystander
But the one who is wronged,
You can't help but cry.

And I was filled with a kind of sadness that made my retreating sobs return;
I wept, and didn't want to let go-
It was that
Warm, and comfortable.


.


I was ignored even with the songs I sent,
And I suppose
You can only help those who want to get themselves out of that rut-
I have tried, and played my part.

I can't be a wooden block that only listens,
I have to be a good friend and provide assistance.

But if you're content to grieve without trying to improve it,
It is beyond me

Afterwards I'll provide the occasional company,
But at the very least for the next six months I'll be taking a break from this.


Till then,
Be well.