i stayed at home for the entire weekend!!! though i did get out of my room to go to my neighbour and do laundry. i should be studying, but really, what??
my lower back pain is freaking me out
Just because they’re nice to you.
I have been ghosted by several people for reasons not entirely known to me, by people whom I (unfortunately still) care and who I believe genuinely cared about me. And that’s why it hurts so much to not understand their treatment of me.
By the way, they are all separate incidents so if there was a category called “Being Ghosted by Most People In A Year”, I am definitely the world record holder*.
*challenge me though
Naturally, I talked about it a lot. Like a fuck ton to my other friends who don’t know the people who ghosted me (hereinafter referred as “Ghosters”) (can I also call myself a “Ghostie”, it sounds adorable) and well, they would tell me that it is the Ghosters being assholes and that I should just let go and move on.
This is a typical example of “easier said than done”.
Obviously I haven’t let it go that’s why I’m here fml. I don’t think I ever would but that’s okay because I can live with it. Living with the facts that I don’t know how I wronged them and/or what went wrong and/or whatever.
I have theories, sure; everyone has theories. That’s what you do when you don’t get answers from the primary source: you hypothesise a million possibilities and then share them to your friends and hope to get some validations. It’s almost like tabulating the probabilities of what likely caused them to ghost me, it’s kinda fun messing with a very biased set of datas.
However, you know what? I still don’t know the truths.
A recent event made me rethink about every Incidents (yes, with a capital “I”). I think, I couldn’t make peace with myself because I simply couldn’t accept the fact that the Ghosters are assholes.
Why couldn’t I accept that?
Because they were really nice to me and I could feel that they treated me sincerely.
How sure am I that what I felt was real?
Idk for sure. There might be a lot of other factors that caused me to think like that. I could be completely biased to reach that conclusion. Idk, my brain doesn’t know me too.
Then why couldn’t I accept that they’re shitty people?
Because I want to believe what I felt was real, that is, them being real friends to me. It’s ego, really.
Shit I veered off course from the Recent Event. Going right back!
I was with friends who know Ghoster F and know that Ghoster F ghosted me. They also know about the other Ghosters but never met them in real life. They told me that the other Ghosters are shitty for how they treated me and that I should just forget about them.
One of them said that I should keep in mind that things might be better when Ghoster F and I see each other in person (long distance friendships might be as hard as long distance relationships i guess). That’s why she offered to talk to Ghoster F for me. I agreed because yeah, I wanted to fix things too.
Long story short: they ended up saying stuff like “I couldn’t believe Ghoster F would do such a thing.”
That’s when I realised the key.
“I couldn’t believe that XXX would do *insert shitty stuff* ”
They couldn’t believe it because they know Ghoster F personally and have interacted with them enough to form a good evalution of their character. That’s bias.
I couldn’t believe it either, I couldn’t believe any of them would do that to me, honestly. The reality is, they did did that. I was too influenced by memories of how they were nice to me and dismissed the current state of assholeness because I’d like to believe the better of them.
All this while, I kept replaying scenes in my head, scenes that are altered by my brain to fit my fantasies, to try to figure out what went wrong; more specifically, what did I do wrong – I was blaming myself. It’s a vicious cycle because I wouldn’t get answers anyway so why bother.
Starting today, this might all be over. I will accept that they’re assholes to be easier on myself. I think I have moved on. They will all have a special place in my heart, no matter their niceness was real or not, because they made me believe in that anyway. And that makes me smile at some memories. And a bit happier.
Just because they WERE nice to me, it doesn’t mean that they’re not assholes.
Just because they are nice to you, it doesn’t mean they aren’t assholes
Just because they aren’t nice to me, it doesn’t mean that they’re assholes for sure
This line of thought could go on forever and I don’t want to confuse myself so imma stop here.