I don’t check Facebook as often as I used to anymore, which is sadly saying a lot because I used to be on it all the time. While scrolling through my feed thinking, “Who the heck are some of these people?” and how I really need to start deleting people soon because I don’t care at all about these strangers who I don’t even recognize the face of anymore being privy to my shit, I passed by someone I remember being really close to at one point.
So I clicked, and thought about sending them a, “Congratulations on graduating!” message— then I looked around and realized that the person was still just as pretentious and haughty as I remembered them. “Oh yeah, this is why I stopped talking to you and why your presence started to make me sick.”
There are a number of people from high school that make me feel physically nauseous when I think of them, and sometimes I’m not quite sure why. I don’t actually know anyone in college that causes such a strong, negative reaction other than that one person who fucking stalked me (that I reported but no one with authority took me seriously).
So many people, me included, were such a bag of dicks growing up. Then I remember that hey, we were growing up. In fact, we’re still growing up right now and we’re going to keep growing until we die. I’m very aware of that, and I accept that. Despite knowing better, I’m still surprised when people persist as douchebags. I’m just naive in thinking that eventually people realize that by being a bag of dicks all the time they’re shitting up other people’s lives— this tiny, little human life that we only ever have once.
Anyway, I know now— after years of therapy, since before I couldn’t even let myself feel this way— that I don’t have to let people I don’t like waste my precious, limited time in this universe. So in a way, I’m happier knowing— thanks to the glorious internet— that they’re an even bigger bag of dicks than they were before so I didn’t contact them and find out the long way.
Signed,
Chien
Also A Terrible Person