Passion of Heart

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**Author’s note: This is based on an incident that happened while I was in boarding school, where a close friend of mine was bullied. After reading @mixedtapes “Head over Heart” I remembered that kind of feeling. Letting your heart do the talking and the passion for your friendships and how sometimes you just need to let your instincts take you some place. That moment was pretty defining for me. I stopped being a victim that day and I fought for my friend.**


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The moment I saw the tears in her eyes, I knew that I had to do something. I didn't even know what it was at first. All I knew was that I had rage inside of me. A rage that came to life when I saw my loved ones spill tears.


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I was in her room, as I had been so many times before, waiting for her to come back from class, sitting by her computer playing any kind of stupid videogame to pass the time. Looking at the clock I could tell her class had been over for about 20 minutes. She never took this long to get back.


Moments later I heard the door open and she came into the room sobbing. My ears perked up immediately and as I turned in the chair I saw her sit down on her bed with her head in her hands, hiding her pain from me.


"What happened?" I asked after realizing she wasn't offering up any explanation herself.


"It doesn't matter. It's stupid." I moved from the chair to sit next to her instead, attempting some sort of comfort without knowing what had happened.


"You know you can tell me anything right? Seriously, something must have happened since you're here crying. Won't you please tell me?" I tried coaxing it out of her, but unsuccessfully.


“I… Someone…told me that I was fat in gym.” Without even realizing I was marching towards the door and gritting my teeth.


“Who was it?” I said with obvious anger in my voice.


“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter, I’m fine.” Turning around I looked at her. The tear stained face, the puffy cheeks and mascara blotches. Anger was bubbling up inside of me. I knew people like her, because I’d been there myself. Being called something hurtful just for the hell of it, was what my childhood essentially consisted of. Being ridiculed for who you are, how you look or what hobbies you liked wasn’t new to me. I was angry, to the point where I could barely see straight. They could say whatever they wanted to me; I’d heard it all before. But her, she was the kindest person I knew. Nobody had the right to say anything to her.


“Who was it?” I asked a little more forceful. I knew I should have just stayed there and comforted her, but all I could think of was yelling at whoever had hurt my friend.


“He’s the popular guy from the grade under you…” She finally said timidly.


“Yeah, I know him… I also know where his dorm is.” Without saying anything else I was storming my way through campus to find his dorm and tell him how small of a person he was. I kept replaying in my head what I wanted to say and how I wanted to word it, trying to at least keep my rage in check.


When I reached his dorm building I almost flew up the stairs and upon reaching his door I froze for a second. I knew what was waiting for me. I knew this type of guy. The popular self important douchebag, who would stomp on other people to feel bigger, and I knew that I could possibly end up getting thrown similar vile comments. Thankfully my rage overruled that little nugget of reason.


When he finally opened the door, I could see a bunch of other people in his room. I thought it better to get him outside, so we could have a little more privacy and so I could let loose on him instead of having morons as an audience. Interestingly enough he complied with my request pretty quickly. And I was ready for him; the walk over there had prepared me for this moment.


So I let him have it. I released all my anger and pain on him, shockingly without too many swear words, but I could tell he was embarrassed.


“All I have to say to you is that you better apologize to my friend the second you have the opportunity. Your comments to her were uncalled for and she doesn’t deserve that kind of abuse. I hope you think long and hard about the words you put into the world, because words hurt, even if you throw them around for fun.” And with that I just turned around and left. Leaving him to ponder his actions and hopefully thinking twice before opening his ignorant mouth again.

Created: Aug 12, 2012

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