Dear X,

So randomly I found myself downloading Twitter of all things. I suppose I just felt the need to get back in touch with the world. I’ve sorta eschewed social media for the last six months. It’s better this way I figure, these people aren’t my real friends. Real friends call and visit and care and stuff. Why should I post shit for them to see when they are just … Fake. Facebook is not a place for real friends I’ve found. Once they get you friended they fade into this background wall of plural-ness. I’m reminded of the worms Urusla turned the merpeople into. Plus my ex is on Facebook and she … Is a source of great thrill and anxiety for me. Whatever I digress.

Um, I found myself on Twitter and in the course of setting it up I synced my contacts.

Yours was the only one which I might have been interested in, I hesitated knowing I wouldn’t be serious in anything like a permanent follow. Damn. The idea of a request for that was so daunting I couldn’t even think about it. And last minute I was drawn to click the little picture. The one of your car.

Which I was suprised to see was the only thing I could see. Damn. You’d blocked me. And on a site I never even used. That’s commitment. I hate to see my old facebook then. You know the one I never use which you never unfriended me on, not for years after that whole debacle.

 

I stared at your car, beloved old thing. And felt my heart crack and bleed for the first time in ages. I didn’t realize it had been hardened like stone until that moment. Now I felt something strong there for the first time. Pain. Like betrayal and surprise and that moist feeling in your throat before you cry.

Damn.

I don’t think I’I’ve felt that hurt in a while. All that time, I knew you never blocked me once. I sorta built up in my head this paragon of kindness, who didn’t deserve what I put him through. Who suffered it with unwavering aplomb and elegant demeanour. Smh.

I tried to put myself down again, like usual, automatically imagining the event from your point of view, which really made me color myself horribly, like a grotesque version of me as both villian and resident crazy, … but this time I stopped. I realize I’ve changed a lot since then. I might still feel shame for my actions, but I can’t feel guilt anymore. In fact the more I write the more it fades. I rationalize now in kind with new beliefs. We both did agree to bring out in each other what happened. And me, I was more broken than I ever knew. But it wasn’t wrong. It was … Perhaps the darkest time in my life. The darkest I’ve ever sunk to. Perhaps what they mean when they say ‘Dark Night of the Soul’.

I worry if it gets worse than that.

However even my newfound peace and forgiveness does recognize a pattern. My closest relationships end inevitably with someone blocking me, and usually me them. Oh the wonders of social media.

I used to write you and apologize. Wallow in my guilt and wail it all out upon the ears I remember being so … Willing. What you gave me, can never be replaced. Regardless of anything you or I ever did, you gave me acceptance, for the first time. You gave me support. And there was, I don’t know if you remember, but I felt for the first time, some admiration come my way. Way back before things went sour I mean. If it weren’t for you I would have never survived my relationships after. Maybe even my life after.

Thank you so much for that.

And I realize now something else. Those other relationships, all of them, even with my family … They all gave me something. Even my ex who hurt me worst of all, loved me best. I was thinking of her today, missing her as a person. And then laughing at myself for forgetting how horribly she treated me. And still having to force myself to recall each and every moment of ill treatment to keep the picture of her balanced, to keep myself from swinging into a pining mood.

I realize now it doesn’t matter how she treated me. The memories of love linger more strongly. And of you, even stronger than my own actions, the first spark of pure unadultered friendship. My family, my mother, might hurt more to think on and delve into but I’m sure there is a lot she gave I don’t want to acknowledge right now out of anger. And that is okay too.

In fact. Let me offer something back to you, X. Let me help you as you once did me.

I accept you don’t want to hear from me. And that is perfectly okay.

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