My childhood wasn't something I liked talking about. I never told anyone about it, I felt like if I did, rumors would've spread at the time like a forest fire. I had little trust in the people I called my friends because I knew they weren't really friends, they only felt pity towards me because I was the loner at school. I liked the idea of being a loner, but society didn't, it's a cruel world they say, and it's true. People do anything just to entertain themselves, come up with theories that are far beyond the truth and spread them fast, as if they were paper towels absorbing a spilt liquid. Of course, it didn't mean I let this get the best of me. I didn't care if people talked about me behind my back, if they didn't do anything to me like hit me, I wouldn't do anything back. Like the saying goes, "an eye for an eye".
Just because they didn't do anything to me physically doesn't mean my school life wasn't hell at one point. When I was in 8th grade, a nasty despicable rumor came out that I slept with older men. I don't even know how this rumor came out to begin with. I don't usually interact with men and even when I do, I don't usually say anything, unless it's a teacher that needs assistance with something and they've asked me to help or if they've called on me in class, which they usually don't since they've noticed I prefer to not be called on and respect that. So, the only thing I could think of is if these "Older men" were teachers.
Because of this rumor I was called many profanities, it was not a good experience. I was already considered an outcast, which was already bad when it came to graded group activities but because of this one rumor, people ignored me and tried to stay away as much as possible as if I had the plague or a deadly virus. Even though I mentioned earlier that I didn't care what people said, it still hurt and affected my mental health badly. It wasn't their words that hurt really, it was their actions. To me, actions were louder than words. Because of this happening I began to lose the will to live and became like a wilting flower. Waiting for when this would end.
During this time, it was like my world darkened, and metaphorically hanging onto a thread did not help. This continued for months. I felt hopeless, like a candle that lost its flame. But it was until she came into my life that changed it all. She was the moon that lit up the night sky, the match that relit my extinguished flame. The one who I would love unconditionally, even though she caused me as much pain as happiness, it didn't matter to me as long as she was happy.