‘Emily’, I don’t understand. Why?

I know who you are. It makes me so f*cking sad that you have gone to this extent. Stock image photos? Pretending they’re your kids? That’s not healthy, I hope you’re ok.

You clearly don’t like me, I don’t think you ever truly have.

I, however, adored you. For a long time and pushed my hurt aside over and over again.

I spent the majority of our friendship in pain and confused.

Do you remember how you laughed when I told you I was SA’d in my house when you and some others stayed over around my 21st birthday?

My cousin was afraid of the guy because she thought he was weird. I did too, in all honestly but I felt bad for him. He was our friend’s ex. I have abandonment issues and really didn’t want my cousin to go home, I promised i’d keep the guy away from her.

I was too polite to ask him to leave.

He did actually apologise and feel really bad after when he found out from my ex how upset I was. I even apologised to him in case I overreacted.

I didn’t overreact.

Someone grabbing your breast, even over the clothes, is not ok.

You laughed when I told you.

I didn’t leave my bed for 3 days. Not for work, not to shower. My boyfriend was skiing in Italy and I knew his parents were pissed off at me interrupting one of their skiing trips by calling my boyfriend. I felt so lonely. I cried constantly. I didn’t have my childhood memories at the time, now I understand why.

I didn’t even think of how I used to bind my breasts and was su1cidal when I went through puberty. When I started menstruating. I felt such shame. I loved being a girl, I like being a woman. But I felt so much shame. You never would have known that. But still, why did you laugh that a guy grabbed my chest?

It wasn’t funny. It really messed me up. You were my ‘best friend’ in the world. That was one of many times I realised It was a one way friendship. I know later I drunkenly somehow rang you and repeated awful shit i’d heard people (people I fell out with over it) say. I’ve rarely allowed myself to drink since. Certainly have never been that drunk again.

I’m sure plenty of people heard the voicemail, but I didn’t get to. In fact, you waited for me to be in your home before admitting that I’d even left one that night. Harsh.

Why pretend to be someone’s friend? It’s cruel. It broke my heart in a big way. I don’t think it ever fully healed. Even now I have walls up around female friends. Some have turned out to be truly awful people, who I had the courage to cut ties with .. It’s better to stand alone than with people who hurt you.. but fortunately not all female friends turned out to be morally bankrupt cliches of ‘frenemies’.

So gross.

You’ve probably heard from some of them, predictable really. Weak people seek validation in groups. I don’t. When one of my friend was unkind about you, even years after we parted ways, it made me incredibly uncomfortable and them saying ‘I have a stalk account, I look at her page’ was weird. The way she openly casually said ‘my stalk account’. I probably laughed out loud. It is still amusing to me. Like, what? Why?

What is it with with ‘stalk accounts’? Bizarre.

That brings me back to you ‘Emily’.

I want better for you than this. I want you to be ok. Better than ok. I don’t think happy people do things like this. Invent an alias and use stock image photos of kids and create a fake family. You have a family.

I first noticed you watched all my stories but never liked a single post. You stood out from the average lurker.

I removed you from my followers but still you faithfully watched my stories. My boring mundane uneventful stories.

So I looked on your follow list, which thankfully was very small. I looked at pages you follow.

I don’t have facebook but a friend of mine who does cross referenced some of the people. and confirmed there was no ‘Emily’ on their lists that matched you, but there was YOU.

It still wasn’t a closed case.

I noticed a habit of liking one’s own posts. I’ve only ever seen one other person do this before. You.

So along with the linking of your business, your cousin and other family members in your follow list, random people who you are facebook friends with too.

For a while I thought ‘Emily’ was a friend of yours who’d been intrigued due by what you’d, perhaps, told them?

I didn’t think it was you for so long. I repeatedly said ‘nah, no way’ when a friend (who you used to know) said it was likely you.

But the obscure band that you loved, what are the chances this randomer had even heard of them, let alone loved them too.

I was starting to think that, maybe, after all it was you. My heart sank.

i’d been relieved it wasn’t someone genuinely dangerous from my past, but the realisation it was you and not some random person you know made me sad.

A random ass kissing friend of yours, being weird, I could laugh about and ignore, but you? no. It made me concerned.

I’ll always have love for you. Regardless.

I don’t know if you’re ok. It’s not my business, but I can’t turn my heart off.

I’ve reached out to you via a comment to make you aware I sent you a DM in August. You, i believe, are choosing not to open it.

I’m pretty sure you have read my blog before (guessing you, once upon a time, saw it in a bio of mine before blocking me?)

What is it ‘Emily?’.

I doubt you miss me, evidently you never really liked me. That hurt me, bad. A very painful realisation.

I have no interested in embarrassing you. At all. Gross.

I just want to know why?

This isn’t healthy… for either of us.

Does hearing about my obesity make you feel better about yourself? I’m sure your parents have informed you of my weight gain, if you haven’t already seen it yourself. I like to believe you’re better than that as a grown woman. As a mother. As a succesful(?) business owner (congrats by the way, a mutual friend told me about your venture. Highest of fives! Sincerely)

How do you have the time though? Between raising tiny humans and a business.

I know you have some utterly shitty people in your circle, cruel malicious vile people, but I still hoped you were happy.

I, myself, cut ties with all the shitty humans I’ve known. A lot of them I was related to.

Life is too short to be surrounded by shitty people.

I’d never ignore you any time you wanted to reach out.

Our last conversation was amicable, which lead me to believe you read my blog because had you checked the date you’d see it was before you actually replied the final time, but you blocked me. I later redacted my rant about a shitty person who commented on your post, but too late.

The truth is, you hurt my heart so bad. SO f*cking bad. Repeatedly, over decades.

Laughing when I was SA’d. Like wtf dude?! WHY? HOW? I wouldn’t laugh at anyone let alone my best friend. F*ck me that hurt. I was in so much pain. I felt so alone. The dude apologised when my ex told him how hurt I was, and I truly think he was sincere in his apology and I didn’t want him to feel awful.

I lay there for days, only left my room to vomit, knowing my ‘best friend’ laughed when I told her.

That’s not a friendship.

You telling me that the guy I had a huge crush on admitted he thought I was cute and you said ‘He doesn’t like you anymore. We all mocked him’. Nice.

That was brutal. That hurt. That confused me. To my core. I know you fancied the dude too, but wow.

Your ‘cool’ brother and his ‘cool’ girlfriend (who he later said ‘got fat’ and he laughed at that because they were no longer on good terms) laughing that the ‘cool’ band member could possibly not be repulsed by ‘lame’ me. Real nice. Really ‘cool’ people.

The death of my grandad. Can’t even revisit that as even now it’s too raw. That was the beginning of the end for me. That one hurt like a knife cutting deep.

This has left scars.

And yet, even now, I wish you the best, It genuinely pains me to think you might not be doing well.

I wish you no harm. Maybe a little humility, but not harm.

Be ok. Be BETTER than ok.