Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
Why do things always die with a whimper? Why is there never any closure?
Even if we drifted apart and hardly ever talked or chatted, the un-friend is a shock to the system.
I know exactly how to feel and what to say (and not to say). That doesn’t make me feel any better, though.
I can’t help it. I’m sorry.
I thrive on information
I love it.
I love knowing things. Who un-friended me. Who unfollowed me. Gauging the relationship that i have with people online. Wondering when I should press that Add Friend button. “Testing” them.
Knowing saves people, says Ender from Speaker for the Dead.
I have been divorced from caring about the losses for a long, long time now. It does no good for me to jump up and ask them why they did X or Y. Let it be. Leave it alone.
Yet the truth is that I can’t save myself…from myself. There is some kind of mental cancerous growth in my mind that’s slowly killing me. The more I try not to care, the more I do care, and the more I can’t do what I want - know things, have answers, unlock the door.
Let it go, Cass.
Just let it go.
— Sylvia Plath
You make love just like a woman, yes, you do
Then you ache just like a woman
But you break just like a little girl"
— "Just Like a Woman," Bob Dylan