To the Editors:

(The following letter is reprinted here at the author’s request.)

Dear Wilton High School,

I know what you are thinking. How could someone like me, who has always complained about the stench of the senior hallway, the crippling anxiety, the unreasonable expectations, and the overabundance of school work, possibly want to reach out to the place that caused it all? As I write this, I cannot even begin to describe the current situation in terms that make sense. It’s almost as if the world decided to take a beach vacation for a few months, but forgot sunscreen, and is currently searching for a bottle of aloe. But who are we kidding? Most stores no longer have aloe in stock due to the selfish customers who take anything they don’t need. The world can only wait, overwhelmed by humanity, and unable to escape the painful burn that spreads without warning.

However, not all essentials have sold out, and in fact, the object that still remains is the only thing I didn’t think I needed: a pair of glasses. I wear them as I watch the news, as I look to my siblings, as I comfort my own mom who struggled with the virus early in March. Sometimes, I wish they were dirty. I wish they were shattered so badly that I couldn’t even make sense of the world two inches in front of my face. I would never see the bad, the wicked shadows, that want to grab my ankles and rip me under my bed into the darkness with them. Sometimes, I wonder, is it better to be blind than to have to constantly see the challenges that threaten human existence?

It wasn’t until I almost had my glasses off of my face that I realized why I needed them. If I were blind, I would not see the courage and strength that inspires me every single day. Yes, I’d rather not see the bad, but I’d rather see the good than nothing at all.

My glasses would stay a little longer.

And with them, I now realize that I owe you an apology Wilton High School. For everything.

I’m sorry that I complained about your noisy hallways where I lugged my backpack, volleyball bag, and then basketball bag through. Those commitments gave me a purpose and direction in life.

I forgive you for the exams that caused anxiety. I wish I could experience the fiery desire I once had to care just one more time.

I forgive you for the pencils I lost.

For the late nights coming home from a basketball game.

For the stinky gym clothes, that I now realize were not your fault.

They were mine.

All mine.

Just like everything else I didn’t like about you.

I’m sorry Wilton High School, because I have been wrongly accusing you this entire time of actions I couldn’t even forgive myself for.

Now as we prepare for the fall, I just hope that you can forgive me as I have forgiven you. I’ll be waiting.

Bella Andjelkovic

Bella Andjelkovic will be a junior at Wilton High School.