I don’t know pain. The racing heart, the grasps for air, the ripped hands, the aching muscles, the urge to give up immediately. Because it hurts. But I don’t. Because I don’t know pain. Pain is being different. Pain is a fear facing the bully, alone. Pain is when everyone watches and no one helps. Pain is being “that loser”. Pain is being alone. But you know what? That bully is weak, and I am strong. Cause pain may decide to choose me, but I choose not to suffer. I don’t know pain.