On Friends, Messaging & Feeling Bad

This past week, I sent some private messages to a couple of people on Facebook. These people were more or less my friends, though we only know each other from freshman year and we mostly just talk about things we like; hell, we don’t even live in the same region anymore. Nonetheless, I considered it a good friendship; one of them I was romantically pining for, and the other I exchange peeks into our respective secluded worlds with. I took for granted that, while neither of us were very social people, checking in on each other every once in a while would not be awkward at all. That had been the purpose of my messages, more or less: to ask them about their life situations, and to tell them about mine. It was unwarranted, yes, because neither of them asked about me, but apparently (& surprisingly) that’s the kind of person I am: I like to keep in touch with people who matter to me.

That being said, they did not bother to reply. You know how Facebook now has this utility that marks a message as “seen” by the receiver? It’s a stroke of both evil and genius, because then you get to realize that the person you sent the message to actually saw it, but did not reply. That was exactly what happened to me: both of them saw it–albeit a few hours or days after I sent it–but neither bothered to even acknowledge receipt (except of course this much is obvious through the “seen” feature). At first all I could do was stare stupidly at the screen; the message I sent last week to the one I’m, um, wooing, she finally saw early yesterday, and the one I sent to my sort-of-friend she saw a couple of hours after I sent it. I didn’t know what to think, and for a while I just went on dumbly with my internet exploring.

After a few hours, though, I realized that my feelings had been hurt. It was fact and set in stone that these people did not like attachments of emotional kinds, and any kind of outreaching would send them running for the hills. I knew that, and I knew what making small emotional talk with them entailed. Still, I couldn’t help but be bummed out. I don’t really understand why, since, like I said, I had known the consequences. I guess I was too busy, hoping maybe this time they’d appreciate my odd once-in-a-while efforts to maintain a friendship, to think it through.

I felt bad the whole day, to be honest. It was like the sky was overcast inside my head.

The object of my affections I had decided to message again, saying that if she doesn’t reply this time I would know what it means. Going through my house chores with nothing else on my mind kind of drained me, but after sending that message I felt a whole lot better. My other friend I decided to let be, since I only really had the courage to do that because one time in the past, she was the one who initiated the conversation, and I figured if she can then I can, too. Stupid of me to assume that, no?

But that’s all water under the bridge now. I guess I’m done with trying to make efforts; sometimes lending a hand to try to speed things up ends up destroying the precocious balance of things instead. Fuck me and my social skills, right?

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