I’m kind of surprised i’m making the effort to even type this. But hey, better get it out there and let that shit go.

 

So, I’ve written before about a best friend I loved for the best part of two decades. Who hurt me and a really ugly side of myself came out when drunk when I repeated shit talk I’d heard others say. (the exact things I fell out with other people for saying, yet my drunk ass repeated it. Not too bright at times, i’ll admit that. I still don’t know exactly what my intoxicated ass said but I remember little flashes).

 

So, i’m not going to be a hypocrite here, and i’ll admit when I cut those ties I blocked her on all social media. Partly doing her a favour in hindsight as I saw too often her tendency to look what people she disliked were up to. Or people she’d fallen out with. I didn’t want her doing the same with me. so admittedly, I blocked her. But she still had my number and didn’t even try to reach out or find out why I was so upset. So, that confirmed I made the right decision, as painful as it was to realise that people who told me she’s not a good friend were right after all.

 

So in the past decade i’ve seen her once. I didn’t recognise her. It was her boyfriend I recognised. Not even at first. Some dude was staring at me in Waitrose whilst he was at the till (and not in the pleasant daydreaming or friendly way). Then I realised who it was. Then I saw who he was with and it was a flashback to childhood. She looked like the girl who used to be mean to me and watch me ride past her house in the hope she’d come out to play.  So, I wasn’t going to be a dick and stare back. I had a lot going on anyway and I don’t roll that way. (anymore, I’ve had my bitch moments with others when I was much younger).

 

So, I kind of forgot about it. If she ever pops into my head, I like to think she’s pretty chill now. Maybe more sincere as a person. Just cooler. I like to think she’s cooler now.

Or I did. Until recently.

So my parents inform me they bumped into her in the waiting room at the doctors. She asked about me.

 

Now, I’m all for politeness. But I went on to see if she had instagram etc… she didn’t. So I was like, she’s cool for that alone cause i’m all about that lameness.

Until my friend said, ‘yeah she does, i’m on it now’.

 

Instragram is pretty recent for me. I didn’t get instagram until wayyyyyy after our parting of ways. Years after I had blocked her on shit. I was super late to the instagram party. So late, it’s as if I was there to clean up.  (good analogy Stace. I’ll work on it).

 

So, this chick asks about me, but has blocked me on there pretty recently in the grand scheme of things. That means, she went to the effort to find the ‘gram of someone she hasn’t seen or heard from in years… and added them to her block list.  Oh but no, it doesn’t end there. She blocked my boyfriend who she has never met (I don’t even know how she found him), she blocked my dog’s page (my dogs are well tech savvy and have 4000 more followers than I have cause they’re cool as shit).  Again, how she find that?

And my health and fitness page (which kind of doesn’t exist now. I was having a moment of trying to hold myself accountable, and I just gave up on it and ate bread).  So permission to laugh at my little health page I had for a brief moment.

 

So, fair enough. You blocked me. I’m slightly confused cause I had no intention of ever following you, until my folks said you asked about me.

 

Well, here’s the thing. My mum struggled to tell me. She has aphasia. So speech for her is incredibly difficult.

 

I’m kind of sad that you’re not better than that man. Please be better than that. Don’t be fake anymore. Please. I doubt you’ll ever read this, but fuck, I really hoped you’d changed.

 

I don’t know how you can sit opposite someone who’s a stroke survivor, and clearly is heavily disabled, paralysed on one side and unable to speak properly and ask them how their daughter is. Someone you clearly dislike having recently gone to the effort of blocking (and her tech savvy dogs and boyfriend you’ve never met).

 

For fuck sake dude, please be better than that. I’ve grown so much the past decade. Such a shame you haven’t.

 

I’m all for polite conversation. And my parents will engage, as opposed to your parents, one of whom very uncomfortably will stare at me with a smug impression. (so not cool man, i’m no saint but neither is their daughter and I hate hostility. It reminds me of the friend’s mother who planned to ambush me at her house because her daughter wouldn’t give me my VHS tape back via a mutual friend. You know, the respectable easy way for me to get my shit back. No, the 3 daughters hiding and watching waiting for me to turn up to THEIR home to get my shit. That’s fucking harsh man.)

 

But please don’t ask my mum to talk about me. I’m super protective about my mum and could cry thinking about how proud I am of how far she’s come and how when she first had the stroke and didn’t recognise her family and even now if she manages to say my name its a rarity and a huge deal. I get called ‘Chris’ most days.

 

So why man? Why be fake to my mum? That’s so low.  I appreciate politeness. But insincerity is low.  You don’t care how I am. You never did.  Even all these years later you’ve thought of me in a negative way and acted on it. I kind of hoped if we ever bumped into each other there’d be a shred of a sincere ‘hey, hows things?’. But no. You’ve not changed. But now I’m just relieved i’m not friends with two faced people anymore. Such a shame because we used to laugh. You had wit. We were on the same level and laughed at a lot together back in the day. I still remember those times fondly. They were real. Sitting up until 4am in our gardens looking at stars, knowing how cringe we were but not giving a shit because space is awesome. So is Jimmy who we had playing more often than not.

 

Why’d you have to go and ruin this image I had if I thought of you now. Cool, chill, sincere, real, unpretentious, humble….

 

Why be insincere to my mum? I know you didn’t like her back in the day, but cut her some slack now at least.

 

I can imagine her sitting there in her wheelchair and trying to get her words out and smiling because she thinks the person who hurt me so badly genuinely gives a shit how I am now. Because she remembers sleepovers and laughs and Summers where you practically lived at mine for a month whilst her and my stepdad were away.

 

I’m not trying to be ‘woe is me’, with regards to my mother’s struggles. It’s reality. And it’s why the insincerity hurts. I won’t tell my mum you were being fake. I want her to think anyone who is speaking to her isn’t being patronising or unkind. But I just hoped you’d be better than that now. A decade later. A decade with maybe some self reflection and growth. I hate being disappointed, but I guess that’s my problem for hoping for the best.

 

Just don’t be a dick dude. Come on. Be better than that.