Ten years ago

This is autumn 2018. Ten years since autumn 2008.

It's been ten years since my exboyfriend broke my heart. Ten years since I brought a knife to school.

I remember the day like it was yesterday. I had had a class where the boy I bullied was, and I was annoyed and angry at him, resulting in me being an ass to him. The class ended and I went outside. I didn't have a coat on me. My boyfriend and his friend come up to me. He puts his hands on my shoulders, simply saying: "I'm breaking up with you." I said: "Okay" and left.

It was cold. I was cold. And I felt nothing. In the bus on my way home I cried. Or I cried already in school. My friend told me the rumours spread quickly after that. That they'd see me cry. But I don't remember.

You may think that a little teenage heartbreak is nothing. Maybe it was nothing. But to me, in that situation, the world shattered around me. All of my friends left me after my ex did. I had no one to talk to. I got backstabbed by the ones I thought cared about me.

You may think teenage-angst is a part of coming of age. Maybe it is. But for me, that angst got brought up to a whole new level after that break up.

I started to feel hate. I felt such strong hate towards my ex that I didn't know what to do with myself. The combination of being all alone, and feeling betrayed by everyone turned me into a raging monster looking for revenge. I wanted to hurt someone. Yes. Violence was the answer.

I wanted vengeance. And my ex was the one I wanted to revenge on.

I wanted to make him feel the same pain I was put through. My emotional pain made me totally blind. And when I brought the knife to school, I hadn't anything planned. My mind was totally blank. White. With anger.

I didn't stab anyone, though that was what I wanted and had planned. I didn't even slice my wrists like I also pondered about. But I for sure scared some people. Put the knife to someones throat, yes. Hurt someone? No.

I still can't believe no one told the teachers.

That all was ten years ago. That is what anger and hate can do to oneself. It can turn you into a... spiteful, hateful monster. And I was only 13 years old, ten years ago. A 13 year old ready to stab someone.

I sometimes don't even believe it myself. How could've I been such a spiteful freak?

Ten years do amazing things to a human. It let her grow, and change, and feel remorse.

I met the guy, whose throat my knife visited, last summer. We said hi to eachother.

I deeply wonder what he thinks of me. What he thinks of that weird incident ten years ago. If he even remembers it.