You might think I wish I unfriended you first. But I don't.
Truth is, I don't even know how "recent" the unfriending was. I just so happened to be browsing Facebook last night when I realized it had been weeks, months, since the last time I saw one of your toxic posts in my feed.
When I looked up your page, that's when I found out why.
I've been unfriended before. Even blocked. By people I had only sent one message to. I still don't know why this happens. Maybe they were annoyed at my constant self-promotion. Do I promote myself a lot online? Yes, but so do you. And so do others who have blocked me.
Do I post things people find offensive? No doubt. But, again, so do you. Or at least, I found them offensive. A litany of attacks at people who likely can't help being the way they are and are incapable of defending themselves in real life, let alone in a private online anecdote. It seemed so needlessly cruel. And cowardly, given that you made so many posts "friends-only."
And your Facebook "friends" (some of which are "mutual" chums) did enjoy them. Still, when I looked at your page without friend privileges, I couldn't help but notice how much more...pleasant your page was without all that toxic ranting at helpless targets. I thought, This is the person I was mad at?
Of course, you are that same person, and I had more than enough reason to be mad at you.
You would poke fun at my associations, the people I tried to promote week after week. And when I confronted you on this, I at least congratulated myself. It appeared I had made you stop. Now it's obvious to me that you never stopped. You just blocked me from seeing further attacks.
And when I finally invited you to witness what I do week after week, you still found a way to not support it. Whether it was by your design or though going along with others, the end result was the same.
That was the year I felt completely stabbed in the back by more people than you. I was so furious about what you and others had done. Most people in your circle didn't see it that way, of course. Many geeks and nerds tend to not see their own peers as bullying, let alone themselves as potential bullies.
As for myself, fellow geeks and nerds--many I would have called good friends--have been among the greatest sources of my mental and emotional abuse throughout my life.
You fit nicely into that part of my history.
I confronted you on this. I apologized to you. For being angry at what I thought you did. Of course, you denied any wrongdoing, any intended harm, but what else would you do? I still said sorry. Not because I wanted to be friends again. But because I had to move on.
Looking back, sometimes I think it would have been better if I just punched you in the face.
I'm glad I didn't. It wouldn't have been more right, not at all. It just would have been more honest.
Instead, I held out hope that you and others would have "forgiven" me for few emotional outbursts over what had happened.
It was a joke to think that could ever happen.
Eventually, I just went about my business. I know at one point I did unfriend you but friended you back either just before or just after my apology. Why didn't I just cut you off again?
It would have been too much satisfaction for you.
For nearly a decade, my love for Facebook has diminished significantly. While still a tool, I see it less as a town hall or hangout and more like the hallways of my old high school, where everyone you love and hate is present and in your face (algorithms be damned). When you're an outcast, you walk the halls, and people either poke fun at you or they just talk about you behind your back.
I imagine you did a lot of talking, assuming a bully position you never had in school.
When I was an underclassman, I avoided certain hallways, afraid of confrontation. By the time I was a senior, I didn't care who I ran into. I had places to be. I can't control what's said behind my back. I can only control what I do.
And for years, I did. And finally, you moved first. You went down another hallway.
Why? Because I 've just been doing what I normally do for over a decade? Just being me?
Somehow, that was enough for you to say no more.
That's so satisfying.
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