True Friends Stab You In The Front: How Social Media Kills The Modern Relationship

Where would we be without Facebook? How would we know the names of all three kids spawned by someone you sat across from at school or know exactly what your ex work colleague was having for lunch?

I joke but it’s pretty useful really isn’t it, you don’t even need people’s telephone numbers anymore. You can track down that fittie friend of a friend you’ve been spying on in the pub easy peazey and with just one click you can go through all the public profile pics of your ex boyfriend’s new piece and throw metaphorical tomatoes at the screen. Judge at your heart’s content. But it’s kinda sweet too. You can keep in touch with people you’d never have spoken to again with a cheeky like every now and again. Then casually ignore them on the bus….. It makes things easy doesn’t it? So easy that you can even dump someone you’ve been seeing for half a year over an inbox message.

The first time round was via a whatsapp message so I’m not sure why I thought I deserved a telephone call or a face to face explanation. Jesus even my boyfriend when I was 17 had the decency to sit me down outside the music block and tell me it wasn’t working out (true he’d probs run out of credit but that’s besides the point ha))so why did I think my 28 year old self was worth more?

Social media makes things too easy but it also creates unnecessary wounds that would never be there other wise. That grooling process of taking yourself out of a public relationship with each other – it feels like when divorcees parade themselves on the front page of ‘Hello Magazine’ for you to drool over. I just took mine back to being invisible and he did the same. I thought that would be it.

It’s difficult when you’re the confused one. When you’re the one who didn’t make the decision and are living with the confusion. I mean I’m no innocent party here but to go from holding hands and kissing one day, being dried down post rain storm by them, your closing words being about what pizza you were going to get on your next night in together. Ignored the next day and dumped over facebook the one after when you became confused as to why they’d been online all morning but not been in touch for two days when you were so tight 8am phone conversations weren’t even unheard of on a Saturday.

I shouldn’t even have had that amount of information at my finger tips. But social media allows it. It drives us mad. He changes his whatssap pic for the first time since I’ve ever known him and slowly deletes the photos of us, the comments, the posts and exchanges all from being online. Far too much effort for me but it hurt to witness.

So many of us, myself included use social media to vent our thoughts and feelings. When we are hurt, when we are happy, extatic even. But it makes the hardest days all the darker. Whenever we fell out he’d blame my anxiety, say I needed to get better and yes I have had my testing moments, been difficult to be around. But aren’t we all? And surely to shut out an over thinker so coldly is only going to make them worse.

I spend my weekend in a haze of alcoholism and self destruction, but even I can no longer drink myself into oblivion. I’ve been changed too much. By the end of it, our last night together I only demolished half a bottle of wine which I dulled down with Lemonade, leaving the rest in the fridge.  My former self could have knocked back two, hit the vodka and had the rest for breakfast….

And with this I can’t deny that the experience hasn’t helped me to grow and become calmer as a person but I feel like part of me is missing, like I’ve been diluted and that it’s absence brings out the wilder, passionate suppressed side. Like Jean Grey in X-Men who’d conditioned her mind to only let out the subdued then tragedy brings the other side to the surface. Obvs I am no mutant, and any comparison to marvel is fictional but it still fucking hurts. The cowardice.

I’ve done bad things, I’ve been a bad person more than once but it’s nothing that I can’t justify or if not haunts me at night. But still in shock, over the mascara tears I find myself on the dance floor of old metal clubs with old friends. A part of my past that seems the only thing able to save me right now. I feel like a geriatric Avril Lavigne wannabe sipping on a cherry coke clambering through the crowd while Lost Prophets’s last train home plays. The only difference being no one plays them anymore as Ian Watkins turned out to peado and Jack and coke is my new drug… Bring Me The Horizon plays on repeat and I feel like an emo kid who got wrinkles too early.

He said I was his best friend but I’m not sure I’d treat my worse enemy like this.

I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you
Cause I’ll forget but I’ll never forgive you
Don’t you know, don’t you know
True friends stab you in the front?

It’s funny how things work out
Such a bitter irony
Like a kick right to the teeth
It fell apart right from the start
But I couldn’t even see the forest for the trees
(I’m afraid you asked for this)

You’ve got a lot of nerve, but not a lot of spine
You made your bed when you worried about mine
This ends now

I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you
Cause I’ll forget but I’ll never forgive you
Don’t you know, don’t you know
True friends stab you in the front?
I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you
You broke my heart & there’s nothing you can do
And now you know, now you know
True friends stab you in the front

It’s kind of sad cause what we had
Well it could have been something
I guess it wasn’t meant to be
(So how dare you) Try and steal my flame
Just cause yours faded
Well hate is gasoline
A fire fuelling all my dreams
(I’m afraid you asked for this)

Pretty emo tastic but it helps….

It’s difficult being alone, what are you meant to do on a Friday night, fight over the TV remote and what’s for tea by yourself? If we weren’t making a go of things why invite me round weekend after weekend, get my rose in, cook tea, run me a bath, let me watch my favourite Marvel film, fill my cupboards when I was skint, help me when my kidneys gave in? Kiss me in public. Share his bed…..

Sex has never confused or hurt me in recent years- It’s the one currency with an exchange rate I understand, it’s the inbetweens that fuck me up. He says I’m too much of a good friend and a ‘Laugh’ to hurt me and mess with my head. But he still does.

When I close my eyes I’m in a happy place, driving somewhere aimlessly in a blue van, sweet sweet loving playing on repeat, sweets in the side door, Pepsi max on tap. When I open my eyes, the tears form and I hate myself for the times i was offish or raised my voice.

Jesus Christ- are you reading this? Does someone want to put this wet lettuce down or shoot her slowly with a gun to the head? I sound so whiney I’ve become to get sick of the sound myself.

I feel guilty for the tearful mess I’ve been on and off recently. Awful for calling the same close friends and my little sister up in bits every time he said something else cutting. I avoid writing as I’m sacred what might come out. Then I man the fuck up.

Minding my own business, watching a shit film and un picking my hair extensions I get a Facebook notification, well a news feed announcement. One which might as well have said-‘Hey your ex boyfriend has decided to make himself officially single on Facebook to piss you off and hurt you’

I click on it, I know I shouldn’t. It’s forefront on his profile, it’s the second thing you read. Even when we first met neither of us had public relationship statuses. We both hid them we weren’t like that. And as petty as it seems, it feels like his announcement into the world is there to stab a final nail in my coffin like a 17 year old girl on myspace whose pissed off and uploads a mirror selfie with My Chemical Romance quote.

My friend says he must be chatting to another girl. I know better, I know it’s to prove a point. If not to me, to himself and everyone else. Because if he wasn’t hurting too he wouldn’t care enough to change such things. Someone who lists their home town as ‘Moscow’ having never lived outside of Sedgley is not bothered by facebook based political correctness.

My reaction is exactly what he wanted. I message my friends, I load up the laptop.

It was you who encouraged me to write baby.

And I told you why not to.

But I’m not here to bitch and shame.After all this may as well be my diary of relationship failures. And even the most beautiful and strongest of plants can’t grow and nurture itself in a sea of rocks.

In periods of hurt, all women can be pushed to their limits of insanity. But even I know better than to send everything I was ever given back or to box to the left Beyonce sale…. it would look like a community yard sale for a start and it would be pretty dumb and marginally ungrateful to throw out essential bedroom furniture.

I feel like a failure I feel like I have spent the passed six months trying to prove to everyone that I could do it. That I could be the perfect girl. That I could hold down something real. But if we can’t prove it to ourselves who are we trying to kid?

He said he told me not to fall in love with him, that I should have listened but how can you prevent such a natural human emotion?

In the shadows of loosing myself, I bumped into an old friend in a pub toilet. A simple exchange that would normally have ended there. But I oddly feel like I’ve been given a second chance at something I regretted for most of my early twenties. When I was 18, before I went to University back to the hazy days of the Lite Bar and Blast off I hung out with a group of girls. A group of friends I lost because teenage Laura thought it would be incredibly classy to co off with someone’s ex boyfriend. When you’re that age everything seems massive and I remember feeling like I was going through the worst break up ever. Lambrini in the week nights and pub at the weekend. Giving me a sense of belonging. All lost down to teenage lust.

Being the age that we were it soon became water under the bridge but from that day onward I made the conscientious decision to be a good friend. To be there for people. Bros over hoes. And that’s the Laura I became at University and the person that never stopped nurturing friendship. Sounds silly but a decade later  being in a similar boat again and hanging out with mates I grew estranged from, friends who aren’t tied up by social media, I felt like I’d been saved slightly. Just at the right time.

Though it hurts, though I miss you holding me and fighting to sleep next to the wall. Cuddles under the mauv blanket on the sofa. Fetching the purple cider and wanting to smack you one for scoffing the chocolate you bought me. My conscience from all those years ago would never have been cleared if you hadn’t have decided that I, my warmth, ambition, generosity and love for you wasn’t enough.

I hear the jokes we had in my head, the dog drinking the rose from the bowl in The Cabin, the argument we had over what we would name our first child, the mini cheese burger canapes I said we should serve at our wedding. I feel a sense of loss, my hormones changing, my sweet tooth returning for the first time in years and I wonder what could have been.

But don’t we all do that, destruct slightly as one door closes, thinking about what could have been. Realising what it never could.

I don’t regret falling in love with you.

I don’t regret getting my heart broken.

I don’t regret fighting for it

I don’t regret feeling.

Because we’re only human

I find myself listening to acoustic ‘Bring Me The Horizon’ covers and over emo shit, not being able to concentrate. Wondering how I’m going to get through this. How I’m going to cope without the rock that steadied me,  It comes in waves, I close my eyes.
Hold my breath and let it bury me. I’m not okay, and it’s not alright.
Won’t you drag the lake and bring me home again? Who will make me fight? Drag me out alive?Save me from myself, don’t let me drown.  But I know with time I’ll make my own way as I was never anchored. Only wedged….

 

 

 

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