So, Im kind of regretting the way I made my journal. It looks a little childish to me, but at the same time, I enjoyed making it. So maybe that has to mean something. Maybe it doesnt have to look “perfect” or mature to matter. Maybe it just has to feel like mine. For the past few hours, Ive been checking out other peoples blogs, and I came across one girls page that really hit me. A lot of the things she wrote brought feelings to the surface that I thought I had already buried. I came here to get away from social media, but I need to be honest with myself. I came here because I was tired of performing. I was tired of pretending I was happy. Tired of pretending that what happened between me and my best friend didnt still hurt me. But it does hurt. I miss her.

I wish we could go back to the way things were, but the truth is, I know we never can. It has been almost three years, and sometimes I feel like I should be over it by now. Im usually so good at bottling up my emotions and pretending like I dont care, but this is something Ive had a hard time letting go of. And Im trying. I really am.

Some days are just harder than others. Especially when its quiet. When I dont have work to distract me. When Im not zoning out to music or getting lost in a gacha game. When its just me and my thoughts, I think about everything that happened. When I met her back on MySpace all those years ago, I never would have imagined that our friendship would end the way it did. Im trying hard to see things from both perspectives. I know Im not perfect. I know she isnt perfect either. We had our fights over the years, and there were times when both of us played a part in the damage. But what happened in 2023 still feels fresh sometimes.

For a little context, my friend got upset with me one day and ended up telling someone somethings I had said to her in confidence. That person came back to me upset, and soon after, it felt like everyone around us was upset with me too. The truth is, it wasnt only me. It was something both of us had talked about, but while I was at work, she was telling people it was all me. She told them that the things she had said herself were things I said. She also told people that I had a reputation for turning others against her, which was not true. I can be very avoidant sometimes. When Im hurt, I bottle things up and shut down. I dont always defend myself well. And when I tried to explain my side, the person involved didnt want to hear me. I understand why she was upset, but no one really tried to understand where I was coming from. No one tried to help or want heal the situation. If we would have talked about it, I think we could have smoothed things over, but I was shut down constatly.

I ended up leaving the rest of group chats I was in, and after that, everyone just seemed to follow the story they had been given. Old friends turned away from me. People deleted me from Twitter. It felt like a social death. It was the first time I had ever experienced something like that, and it hurt more than I can explain. What hurt the most was that it came from someone I had known for over sixteen years. Someone who was supposed to be my best friend. After everything we had been through together, I never expected that from her.

Being alone for these past couple of years has made me see the pattern in our friendship more clearly. I cared about these people deeply, but I dont think they ever cared about me in the same way. Ive had to come to terms with that. It took about two years for anyone to even try to reach out. And even then, she didnt come to me herself. Instead, she sent one of our mutual friends to try to convince me to come back to Discord and rejoin the group so we could all be friends again. But she never came herself. That mutual friend has tried to reach out to me three different times now, and I had to reject the friend requests. Even though I still care about them, I know now that these are not people who look out for my best interest. And I wont lie. Its lonely. I dont have many friends. I have a few, but not many. These past two years have been hard. Trying to heal from this by myself. Trying to understand it. Trying to come to terms with what happened. Trying to accept that some doors have to stay closed, even when part of your heart still misses what was behind them. Thats part of why Im here.

I wanted to let go. I wanted to start over. I promised myself that this year, I wasnt going to keep letting this pain pull me under. After everything happened, I fell into a deep depression. I gained around thirty or forty pounds from emotional eating. It was like all the pain I couldnt say out loud turned into something I carried in my body. Over the past few months, I’ve been able to lose that weight, but I know I still have a long way to go. More than anything, Ive been trying to do things for me. For the first time in years, Im trying to put myself first. But I still think about them. I still think about her. I think I even had a dream about her last night. I have a bleeding heart, and even though we fought so many times before, this feels different. This feels final. Maybe my heart is just trying to release everything Ive been holding in for so many years. I like being here because it feels peaceful. I wish I had done this sooner.

Here, I feel like I get to see peoples true hearts. On social media, everyone is so focused on likes, algorithms, attention, and performance. Platforms like Facebook and TikTok are full of people showing their best selves: vacations, parties, accomplishments, perfect pictures, perfect moments. And I know some of it is real, but it also isnt the whole truth. Being here feels different. Looking through peoples blogs, reading about what they love, what theyre healing from, what theyre struggling with, and what theyre trying to become has been strangely therapeutic for me. I cried reading some of them. Because we are so human. For the first time in years, things feel normal in a way I didnt expect. I feel like Im seeing real people again. Not the fake plastic image were all forced to wear online. Not masks. Not performances. Just people in their little corners of the web, leaving pieces of themselves behind. Maybe thats why this place matters to me. Maybe my journal doesnt have to look grown-up or perfect. Maybe it just has to be honest.