Venting: Mr. Wrong

You know, I have half the mind to rip that last letter that came in my mailbox to shreds. But I won’t, seeing that I have excellent self control.

Now, if you had read closely, you would’ve realized that I said textbook, not teacher, but I guess you take things your own way.

Mr. Wrong:

I repeat, I feel nothing. I learned nothing. You are nothing.

Okay, that was a little harsh, so let me rephrase that. You are nothing to me. You never were.

Is that better? I think so.

Pop quiz time! Do you remember anything else about me? Like how I always did my homework, whether the teacher liked it or not?

It took me a while to calm down, but hearing his heavy footsteps walk away made it a whole lot easier. As I regained my composure, I realized I should be laughing, not clenching my teeth together. A burden was lifted off my shoulders, my only burden for that matter. I felt free, vindicated, and that feeling lasted for so many years. Why did I go back?

A+ material right there.

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