You tell me that the worst part about being this good-looking is the vanity that comes with the attention. I am shimmering, shining, even out-shining everything that stands besides me, lives besides me, vegetates. The responsibility of bearing this sheer beauty is immeasurable to the average observer. It is a hard life, believe me. For years, I am in this situation now and it has never gotten easier. But the steadfastness of my will, my stature and my role as an example will carry me throughout this hardship.
I know what you are thinking now, reading this. I can feel the sentiment, the resentment, building up. But this is my role as well, I am here for your anger, frustration and judgment to be deflected, redirected and misdirected at me. Do not worry, I have a good understanding of what you must be going through. And I do even have a better understanding that me saying this, agreeing with you, holding up my other cheek in a good Christian manner for you to slap, makes you even more mad.
Anger is an outburst of emotion, something that urge-driven beings succumb to when reason and logic fail. The very reason for my heightened role in this situation is that I have accepted my position. I bear responsibility for my shining purple skin, seemingly endless beauty, my longevity of being, the impetus that is my core. You are struggling, I can see it. You are worried about the position that your kind has. So you lash out.
Get angry at me. You feel that my vanity is my doom. One scratch to my skin and my frail ego will burst into pieces. You try to hit me with all your might, the anger and blind rage that has been building up, resulting from the collapse of your own ego.
I am scarred.
But here I stand before you, undressed and scarred. You look at me with widened eyes. The anger has vanished but no wisdom has been created. I am shedding myself, slowly. I am making you cry as I loose my outer layer. I am unpacking myself, my new, shiny, beautiful purple skin. I am still standing, nothing has changed. I lost my scar, leaving you with tears in your eyes.
I forgive you.
This is why I am an onion and you are not.