So it’s extra painful learning that a close friend chooses to unfollow me. I began to search for tweets that might have offended this person. Maybe the “men are trash” movement? Maybe he was against my views on politics? Maybe I liked too many posts, and then this Twitter algorithm posts them like retweets, which shouldn’t be? Maybe I talked too much online?
Remember, this is not just any person I know. He was one of my closest friends, and I still consider him as one, even when years of should-have-been-friendship have gone to waste because he stopped communicating for reasons I respected. He even attended my mother’s funeral.
Sorry, I am fragile when it comes to friendships. Doble sakit, e, especially when you treasured this person for a long time.
I took a step back, trying to reflect. Maybe I was too toxic. I began to wonder if I post too often. Pero bakit di na lang niya ako i-mute? Sabagay, who am I to decide? It’s his account anyway.
Sa akin lang, masakit. That’s why I’m writing this at midnight where my followers are probably asleep.
The more I reflect, the more I hate myself for even speaking out. To me, social media is an avenue where I can express my feelings, hoping I can find someone whom I can relate to or discuss with. Sometimes I want to go back in time. I wish I hadn’t revealed myself, or I wish I made up a name.
Sana di na lang kasi talaga ako nagsalita.
So I paused because I cried and I cannot breathe. Tangina this anxiety.
Maybe I’m doing it all wrong. Maybe I should have not spoken up. I made another account where no one follows me, where only I can rant all the way I can. About the government, my music taste, my everyday struggles, my beliefs on sexuality and religion—things that maybe he doesn’t want to see and hear. I unfollowed artists and celebrities in my other account but followed them on the other.
I still need a platform where I can react and probably ease the frustration I feel.
I am apologizing in advance if you feel that I am not using my author account to speak up for the oppressed. I will use my other account for this. From now on, I will only post story-related tweets. I won’t cross-post my blogs there anymore; this will be the last one.
I am sorry if I talk too often than expected. I’m quieter personally, and I love being able to express my feelings (1) without facing people and (2) with a cohesive thought, which I can rarely, almost never, do face to face.
I had to pause again.
I dislike this feeling—apologizing for matters they tell me I shouldn’t be apologizing. Still, I hate doubting myself as much as I hate doubting people I once treasured.
Anyway, for those who read my blogs even when I don’t cross-post them on Twitter, thank you. If I seldom tweet, and you’ll soon notice the pattern, it’s because of this. Maybe I’m overthinking, but I’m always this person who thinks that a glass is half empty rather than half full.
My personal choice? An upbringing turned to mental illness? Maybe.
P.S. I do not have the strength to message this person privately because I suck at communicating, as I said too many times in this post. Whereas here, I could pause and then cry and then breathe and then write with full consciousness.