Someone commented on 258 in second period. I thought maybe they resonated with it and felt nice enough to leave a comment sharing their thoughts with me. But it was just a nameless account who carelessly submitted a full stop, a period, if you will, for those who don’t know what a full stop is. The dot in punctuation. Yeah. To end your sentences with.
You know, at first I felt confused. Who has a single letter for their gravatar account? Is it even possible, I don’t now, maybe. I figured out who it was after I read back what the post was about. I don’t really remember most of my posts after a while…
So if you’re reading this right now, hey you. I know you still come here to read about a weird girl who apparently can’t do friendships right. Sure, if that’s what you think, fine. Since I don’t really care what you think anymore. Sorry, not sorry? I know you have to find my blog because you have this Android quick Google search box thing and you type my blog URL or something related to my blog into that search box, and then my blog comes up, and you click on that. WordPress stats, may heaven bless them, shows me this under referrals. I’ve seen this referral before and I’ve realised that it’s you. Silly you, why do you still come here to read my posts? We have nothing to do with each other anymore. I’ve deleted you from my life, as you should have also done with me. I think we agreed on this mutually. You don’t exist to me anymore. Yes, I still have memories of you, but those are easily suppressed and with time, I’ll forget you wholly and the only thing that will trigger any memories of you are things I will least expect.
But yes if you are still reading this, I would just like to know that in my haste to block you from messaging me ever again and blocking you indefinitely on Facebook, you still managed to send me one more message that I wish I didn’t see. It will more or less haunt me for a while because it did offend me. Normally when someone offends me, I sigh and move on with life. But you, you’re different. How dare you tell me that you hope I learn how to be a friend? I only have four months’ less of life experience than you do. I have friends from all walks of life. I know how to be compassionate, to empathise, to be there for people whether they want me to or not. Yes, I know how to, but for people I don’t wish to associate myself with or care about (i.e. you), then you don’t get to know or understand that kind of compassion or empathy. I didn’t want to be friends because I made myself clear and you made yourself look like a victim. Seriously, a misadventure form for heartbreak? Good joke, but I’ll never understand why you had all that “hope” riding on me to be someone that you had a definite connection to from the girls’ school. Actually, I still don’t understand and it doesn’t matter anyway, you won’t be able to reply.
The point is, I know how to be a friend. I just didn’t want to be your friend. You’re the last kind of person I wanted to be friends with, and I honestly regret meeting you on a dodgy social media platform. Things like these just don’t work out. Have a nice life. Don’t read things on my blog again. Or better yet, don’t make it easy for me to find that you have. I will make more posts where I rant directly to you and only you if you continue and frankly, that would be wasting our time.
Didn’t I already erase you? Isn’t that enough for you to realise you need to move on? Think of it this way. I was just a figment of your imagination. I was a beautiful dream which spun quickly into a nightmare and now the stress of your final year at school has suppressed that nightmare to make way for dreamless nights. Good.
This post is just my ranting. This is not directed to anyone who normally reads and likes or comments on anything here. I love all my followers and readers who have engaged with me somehow on this platform in a friendly manner. Please understand that I am simply tired of this one burden in life and writing about it helps me to unload. Lots of love-