Letter I wrote to Sean in January 2019
Dear Sean,
In the last letter you wrote to me, you said that I was one of the kindest people you have ever met and that I had a kind heart. This letter is my response to you.
When I was four years old, I realized that evil existed and that lies are inherent to humans. I was playing with a classmate in the park of my kindergarten. There were swings, a merry-go-round, a sandbox, a seesaw, and a slide. Everything was very colorful, and the place was filled with nature, the perfect environment for children to be happy, without worries. I think I was happy, or at least that's what the photos showed, although my only memory of that place is dark and sad.
My mom was late. The pickup time from the kindergarten had passed a while ago, and only one other child and I were left in the park. We were playing, having fun, and even racing down the slide. Everything was fine until I was at the top of the slide, and the same child I was playing with, my friend, pushed me, causing me to fall face-first onto one of the screws at the base of the slide, piercing my tongue. I remember screaming, crying, and the child running to his mom, who happened to be the kindergarten director. Blood was dripping from my mouth, and the director, who arrived at the same time as my mom, started talking about the incident as an accident. "Poor girl, she slipped off the slide. I should take her to the emergency room." At that precise moment, I noticed it: life wasn't a rainbow-colored garden, and people weren't helpless flowers. I knew I had to defend myself, and amidst tears, I managed to say that it was the director's son who had pushed me. My mother believed me and immediately confronted the director, who continued to deny it despite knowing the truth. I didn't understand why she denied it, I didn't understand why she labeled me as a liar, and I understood even less the need to lie.
Now, fourteen years later, I can understand the instinct that led them to react this way. It doesn't mean I agree, but I can see possible reasons, although I will never know the true one. Perhaps the child lied out of fear; seeing the blood, he panicked, just like you at the top of the giant tower in Salitre Mágico when you screamed like a little girl. Only adrenaline acts in those moments. Maybe the woman just wanted to protect her son, the person she loves most in the world, from any harm. I'm sure all our mothers have done something crazy, strange, or annoying to protect us. Life is full of colors and shades. I like to think that instead of being black or white, we can be shades of black and white. Just like instead of being evil or good, we can be humans who do despicable or kind acts.
I want you to know that I'm not good, and I don't have a kind heart. I'm a complicated person, and maybe you don't know my whole truth, and that's okay. Maybe it's best for both of us to keep monochromatic memories, without the nuances that white lies could bring. Perhaps it's better to let me remain in your heart as that Disney princess and not as a real, imperfect, and deceitful person.
Letter Sean wrote to me pt1- December 2018
