Pensamientos de medianoche / Midnight thoughts

One of the times when I felt more relieved in my childhood was when I broke a boy's nose, he was possibly the most annoying kid I 've ever met in my life. He was bullying my friend, pushing him and laughing at him because his parents were divorced or something like that, ( I was in third grade, I don't quite recall what he said but it was a family matter.) I could not bear to see my friend being abused and I simply punched that bully in the face and his nose began to bleed. He got scared to see the blood and run to tell the teacher. I never regretted it. My friend didn't tell me anything at that time, I assumed he was scared of him. The teacher told me that it was not good but she didn't call my parents and the bully's mother didn't complain, maybe he never told her what happened, ashamed of being beaten by a girl.
Days later my friend asked me to be his girlfriend. I was really surprised, my mother had always told me that boys didn't like girls that violent and at a young age I was almost resigned thinking that anyone would ever love me. The following year he moved far away, I've never seen him again. Is that the story of my first love?
Remembering that makes me sad, but not because I 'loved and lost' but because no one has ever defended me that way. That guy I smacked and others always attacked me (until the last years of school), mainly picked on my family. I always remember this fat and unbearable girl, saying that I was ugly because my dad was ugly and she loved to tease me saying I came from a poor family, while showing off her clothes, the candy her parents bought her and her toys. I just ignored them, I never raised my hand against them, it was easier to defend other people than myself. My 'friends' remained silent and I never knew if it was because they thought I didn't care about being bullied or they didn't know what to say or do. If someone had defended me, either verbally or physically, I think I would have loved them forever. But no one did anything.
Now, I was being 'cyber-bullied', to call it somehow and some people stand up for me. When I read their comments my eyes actually teared 'Why are you doing that?' I thought. I didn't know how to thank them. But I really appreciate it with all my heart. I feel like a little girl, so helpless. Aggressive comments calling me a bitch didn't bother me that much, but I really began to mourn and cry to see that even a little, someone cares about me. I'm overwhelmed and it makes me sad because I don't know how to return the favor



Uno de los momentos en los que me sentí más aliviada durante mi infancia fue cuando le rompí la nariz al que posiblemente era el niño más molesto que conocí en mi vida. Estaba molestando a mi amigo, lo empujaba y se reía de él porque sus padres estaban separados o algo así, (estaba en tercera grado, no recuerdo bien qué decía pero era una cuestión familiar.) No pude soportar ver a mi amigo maltratado y simplemente le di un puñetazo en la nariz, comenzó a sangrar y asustado fue corriendo con la maestra. Nunca me arrepentí, mi amigo no me dijo nada en ese momento, supuse que estaba asustado. La maestra me dijo que eso no se hacía pero no llamó a mis padres, la madre del chico golpeado no se quejó, quizás él nunca le dijo que pasó, avergonzado de haber sido golpeado por una chica.
Días después mi amigo me preguntó si quería ser su novia. Realmente estaba sorprendida, mi mamá siempre me había dicho que a los chicos no les gustaban las chicas violentas y a esa corta edad ya estaba resignada a que alguien alguna vez me quisiera de esa forma. Al año siguiente se mudó muy lejos, nunca lo volví a ver. ¿Es esa la historia de mi primer amor?
Recordarlo me pone triste, pero no por haber 'amado y perdido' sino porque nadie nunca me defendió así. Ese chico al que golpee y otros me atacaban siempre (hasta los últimos años de colegio), principalmente se metían con mi familia, siempre recuerdo a esta niña gorda e insoportable, diciendo que yo era fea porque mi papá era feo y le encantaba burlarse diciendo que yo venía de una familia pobre, mientras presumía de su ropa, las golosinas que le compraban y sus juguetes. Yo simplemente los ignoraba, nunca levanté la mano contra ellos, me era más fácil defender a otro que a mi misma. Mis 'amigos' se quedaban callados como yo, nunca supe si era porque pensaban que no me importaba o no sabían qué decir. Si alguien me hubiera defendido, ya sea verbal o físicamente, creo que los hubiera amado para siempre. Pero nunca nadie lo hizo.
Ahora en una comunidad recibi 'cyber-bullying', por llamarlo de alguna manera y algunas personas me defendieron. Cuando leí sus comentarios mis ojos realmente se llenaron de lágrimas '¿Por qué hacen eso?' pensé y no supe, no sé cómo agradecerles. Pero realmente lo aprecio con todo mi corazón. Me siento como una niña pequeña tan indefensa. Los comentarios agresivos llamandome puta apenas me molestaron, pero realmente comencé a llorar al ver que aunque sea un poco, le importo a alguien. Me emociona y me pone triste porque no sé cómo devolverles el favor.