Kassandra's Notes

Over the past few weeks, I have realised that I have been using this blog as a coping mechanism. It’s like a diary that everyone can read. Since I’m not ashamed of my feelings, I think I’ll just keep doing that. This post is born out of pure hatred and anger. If you don’t want to read it, don’t. It’s not my problem, but you’ve been warned. The subject of this post is MF (formerly known as NF). I’ve mentioned him before since the end of our nearly ten-year friendship was just a few months ago. Since then, there have been many instances where I have thought about past events in which he made me feel inadequate, stupid or irrelevant. I realised that I felt nothing but pure hatred because no friend should ever make you feel that way.

I made this friend when I was 16, when our respective best friends started dating. We became fast friends. And I’ll be honest, I have developed feelings for him. And yes, I told him. He told me he didn’t feel the same way. That was over eight years ago. I told him I needed time. I got a few months, mostly because I forgot about him, but then we built on our friendship until a few months ago. I don’t know if our friendship was always as bad as it was in recent years, but I don’t think I can focus on the good memories I once had. So no, I don’t have any romantic feelings for him. I want to make this clear because it might seem otherwise in some of the following examples. But I definitely don’t have any feelings for him. All examples are based on friendship, because yes, I love my friends. Or, in this case, loved my friends.

I saw him as one of my best friends, but I don’t think he was really my friend. How can you be friends with someone who only takes and doesn’t care about you at all? I was just an audience for his endless self-presentation. Every single conversation we had was dominated by his interests, his newest obsession or his problems. There was no room for me because our friendship was all about him. Whenever I started talking, he could end the conversation with his mere disinterest. He just didn’t answer and changed the topic as soon as I had finished speaking. If you think he ever asked me anything or took any interest in my life, you are mistaken. He didn’t ask me questions. If he asked me how I was, I felt warm inside. A little voice in my head said, ‘Yes, I’m important. He asked how I am! He cares.” How messed up is that?

Since I had these feelings when I was younger, I sometimes thought it might have something to do with that. But no, I don’t have any romantic feelings for him. I never hated him, but the thought of dating him was more like dating one of my cousins without the blood ties. So I thought, where do these thoughts come from? For one thing, I’m someone who often needs a lot of positive affection. As much as I love my family, they weren’t often around, and I spent a lot of time alone as a kid. I need positive affection and reassurance. I know this is every psychiatrist’s wet dream: a young woman with an insatiable desire for affection; what a cliché. Most of my friends know that I need this and have never had a problem with it. I don’t expect my friends to go along with what I want, especially when it comes to this. They are my friends, and a friendship is always built on give and take.

However, when it came to my friendship with NF, things were a bit different. It took me a while to figure out why I was still trying. Why hadn’t I noticed it? The word I found was ‘manipulation’. He would ask me questions, but as soon as I answered, he would change the subject. He dangled positive affirmation, but took it away almost immediately. He trained me like a dog. He knew about my problems with affection. He knew about my general problems. And he used this knowledge to his advantage. ‘Abusive’ is a strong word, but this was an emotionally abusive friendship.

This is the first reason why I wanted this affection. By the way, how messed up is it that I’m calling small talk affection? I’ve just realised that’s what it was for me. Yeah, of course there were random compliments sometimes, but that’s it. The other reason was a little more complicated. I’ve already used the word ‘inadequate’ to describe how he made me feel, as well as ‘stupid’. He mostly did this with a big dose of mansplaining. Again, this is a strong word that is not always used correctly. But he mansplained everything to me. Here are a few examples:

• Different subjects in history
  • I’m a history student at university. Yes, now he is studying that too, but he started a year after me.
  • Once I was writing a term paper and told him the theme. The next half hour, I had to listen to him explaining my topic to me.
• Books, yes, books
  • I’m also a literature student, and no, he is not studying literature.
  • I had just finished a book for a course, and he started to explain it to me.
  • The thing is, he had never read the book – just the wiki page.
  • This didn’t happen once or twice, but so often that I lost count.
• How to make an audio article for radio
  • I work for my university radio station, and yes, he knew that.
  • Then he made a new friend who has a podcast.
  • Since he listens to what other people have to say, he started explaining to me how to cut audio and what someone has to do for audio files.

So, yes, he mansplained everything to me. I’ve just included the most stupid and humiliating examples here. With every explanation, he built himself up and put me down. He made me feel so stupid that I needed constant confirmation from this ‘smarter’ person because he was putting me down. Even now, I realise how much I hate him. But I also hate myself because I never thought I would be someone who would fall for that. However, you can be the smartest, most confident person in the world and still find yourself trapped in such a relationship, and it doesn’t have to be a romantic one. That’s why I was waiting and begging for his affection; he had trained me that way over the years. He put me on an emotional leash and tugged at it whenever he felt like it. I don’t know if he planned it that way, but that’s how it turned out. But that would be an insult to his intelligence.

Many of you are probably thinking that he wasn’t actually my friend and that I was just following him around. But no, he was certainly interested in being my friend. He pursued me to a certain extent; he asked for my time, attention and affection. And I mean it: HE asked for it. He even did me favours: he drove me home, helped me paint my room and helped me move. But at its core, our friendship was based on his needs and his time. His question caused me to jump, and now I understand that this is just another example of manipulation. But at the time, I thought I was just helping a friend.

At this point, I want to bring this post to an end. Not because I have nothing more to say, but because I want to move on. However, I know it is not that easy. The reason I’m writing this right now is because of conversations I had with my best friend, LC. Since I will probably mention her a few more times, as she is one of the most important people in my life, I will call her Foxglove, after the flower.

Over the last week, Foxglove and I went out for dinner several times. Each time, she insisted that we talk about my relationship with MF. She talked about how our relationship could be fixed if one of us would just get over ourselves. But I don’t want that. I know where Foxglove is coming from: she loves harmony, and she’s friends with us both. But I want to burn this MF to the ground. I have this hate inside me. How dare he make me feel bad about myself? I don’t want to talk! I want him gone. At first, she was understanding, but just a few hours ago, a few days later, she brought it up again. This time it wasn’t about our relationship, but about something he wants to tell me. (I don’t want to know.) He wants to tell me in person. (I don’t want him to tell me personally) And he didn’t because we don’t talk. Foxglove wants to tell me because she doesn’t feel comfortable having the knowledge. She tells me.

The big thing he needs to tell me in person is… drum roll… he has a girlfriend! Yes, I had a crush on him eight years ago. As I said, I don’t have that crush anymore. I asked why he had to tell me in person. Foxglove said that he wants to tell all his friends in person, but it’s also fine if she tells me. Why is this being presented to me as big news? It’s not like I care. The only thing I care about is why it’s presented to me like that. Most of my friends who get a new partner just tell me, or I see it on social media, or I see them together somewhere. Isn’t this the normal way, or have I missed something?

But I couldn’t stop thinking about this little conversation, and I wondered why. Why won’t it leave my head? Then I realised: I hate the thought of him being happy. Yes, I didn’t care that he had a girlfriend, but I did care that he was happy. The news could have been that he had an amazing semester or was on holiday. But I don’t want him to experience any of that. I wish him nothing but the worst because he made me feel the worst. But I know I’ll never have the satisfaction of making him feel the same way, and that annoys me. It bugs me. Like right now, when I should be sleeping, but instead I’m writing this text to get it off my chest. I need to get all this hate out because there is nowhere else for it to go. I won’t do anything to him or anything else ridiculous. But I need space. I need to stop hearing about his life. Yes, I did tell my best friend about it. It’s not her fault; I know where she’s coming from.

I want to write the truth, nothing but the truth. There should be no secrets or anything like that here, so yes, we had sex. Shortly before I ended our friendship. I think he thinks that’s the reason for all this. But, to be completely honest with you… This memory of the fun we had that evening and morning was one of the first good memories I had of our friendship in a long time. I don’t mean the sex, which was… well, I can’t find the right word for that, so I’ll leave it be. But the jokes we made, the breakfast we had and the time we spent together were good. It only happened once and I don’t regret the experience. When I thought about our friendship after the cinema incident, this was the only memory I could think of where I didn’t hate him. This was the only argument I had against ending the friendship. I really think he thinks it’s the other way around. I won’t correct him; why should I? He can think whatever he wants of me.

There are certainly more stories to tell. The events of the last year alone would make for an epic post. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I need to get rid of this anger. And that means I need to remove him from my life. I certainly won’t lose my hatred for him.

Anyway, since I’m currently expending too much energy on a complete arsehole, I think I should spend some time appreciating all the fantastic people in my life. I won’t say anything else, but expect a few cosy, loving posts for my friends and family.
Now I’m going to sleep, and yes, this has helped.

And to the MF who might read this: fuck you!