Somebody that I used to know

The Artist pissed me off big time today and it’s resulted in a textual argument and his de-friending of me on Facebook.

Some of my friends were out in town last night celebrating the end of their exams, where he was also enjoying himself, but rather too much in harassing my friends with his strange words and inappropriate touching.

The guy’s a complete arse and after hearing some of what he said and did to my mates, I had to react. I couldn’t let it go. I felt somewhat responsible as I am the link between him and my friends, a constant starter of drunken conversation.

I won’t get into the details but I essentially told him to stop being creepy towards girls, especially my friends, and that I know that he is a decent man beneath his bravado but he isn’t showing it at the moment. I apologised for sending the text, saying that I was protecting my friends and it was my duty to protect them.

Evidently, he didn’t take it well, as is understandable, and the argument spiralled beyond control, though I had not particularly intended it to.

It’s funny. This last communication between us marks the end of our relationship, whatever it had come to be.

I am not sorry for that.

The time to move on has to come someday, though social media tends to greatly extend the period before this happens. Now that I have no contact with him via modern technology, our links have been severed once and for all.

We live in the same small town; I will see him most days walking the streets, but perhaps the locking of eyes will now be the sole source of our acceptance of mutual existence.

I honestly don’t care. I’ve had enough of his games and pathetic attitude and I feel like I can now wash my hands of him and move on. As he told me, “This conversation is over. Goodbye and have a nice life.”

Fuck you, Artist, but I also hope you have a nice life. I hope you see the goodness that I know is in your soul and revive it. I hope you find someone, singular or plural, to love and be loved by and that you live happily to a ripe old age.

Best of luck, thanks for the experience, but now you’re just somebody that I used to know.

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