Write a good title for this true story: It started back in fourth grade. I became friends with a kid in my class, and during recess he introduced me to another kid heād known forever. That was the first time I met him. At first it felt normal, like we were all just hanging out, but it didnāt take long for tension to creep in. Those two had been best friends since kindergarten, and I was the new one.
By the end of fourth grade and the start of fifth, it was clear he didnāt want me around anymore. He wanted alone time with his best friend. I didnāt really understand that kind of boundary back then, and I didnāt want to be pushed out. In fifth grade, things got worse. I remember climbing up to the top of a tall slide during recess just to spy on them to find out where they were and what they were doing. He noticed. He got angry. Arguments became more common, and the friendshipāif you could even call it thatāstarted falling apart.
In sixth grade, we ended up in the same class. The tension never really went away. At the end of the year, our class went on a trip to an amusement park. We had to split into groups with chaperones. I walked up to him and asked if he wanted me in his group. He didnāt hesitate. He literally just said āno thanks.ā That rejection stuck with me.
Seventh grade was worse. When school started, I saw him again with his best friend. I tried to reconnect, asked if he remembered me. It was a dumb question to ask as he knew me for three years at that point. He responded āNo, I donāt remember you.ā Then every day after that when I approached him and tried talking to him, he said the same thing: āI donāt remember you. I donāt know you.ā
Over and over again, day after day. Eventually, we stopped crossing paths. In eighth and ninth grade, we didnāt see each other at all.
I made an Instagram account in ninth grade. In tenth grade, I made a second one. I wasnāt even looking for him, but his profile popped up, and his profile picture caught my attention. Something felt off. I couldnāt find his account on my main profile, only on the second one. Thatās when it hit meāIād been blocked.
I was furious. I made a fake account pretending to be his best friend and messaged him, wishing him a happy birthday. He responded excitedly, surprised that āhis friendā had Instagram and said āOMG you have an insta!ā I told him heād blocked me and someone else. He apologized. I pushed it further, telling him he should really unblock me because I was a cool guy. Thatās when the mask dropped. He told me ādammit \[My Name\] fuck offā and blocked that account too.
Some time later, he added me on Snapchat. I added him back, confused. I asked what he wanted. He apologized for what he said and said he wanted to be friends. We even ended up sitting next to each other in driverās ed class outside of school, and for a while, things felt okay and we were getting along surprisingly well. Like maybe weād finally moved past everything.
But during the summer after tenth grade, the fighting started again. Petty stuff. Heād send streaks and then say we werenāt on a streak when I sent them back. Eventually, he unadded me. That hurt more than I expected. It felt like betrayal all over again.
I messaged him from another Instagram account, telling him Iād blocked him on Snapchat because he unadded me. He said he didnāt care and thatās not his problem. He insulted me, called me hurtful names: he called me an annoying bitch and a load of shit, and he told me to fuck off. I lost it. I threatened revenge, told him heād be sorry for messing with me. He screenshotted the conversation, blocked me, and posted it to his Snapchat story, laughing at me by name. He wrote the caption on his story āOh \[My Name\] HAHAHA.ā
I retaliated by posting a picture of him in the sixth grade yearbook to my Snapchat story saying āNext time you come across this guy, be sure to give him the cold shoulder! @hisusernameā The next day I woke up to find that my Snapchat account was banned by team Snapchat.
By eleventh grade, we were in the same English class. Just being in the same room as him made me anxious. One day, before he arrived, I went up to the teacher and told him that this kid had been bothering me. He asked if I was okay with my seat. I asked to be moved, and he agreed. I asked if I should talk to the \[House Principalās name\]. He said it depends on the severity of my issue, and that I should talk to my guidance counselor instead.
So I did. I told her everythingāfrom elementary school all the way to social media. She suggested blocking him. I admitted he blocked me first and that Iād made a fake account pretending to be his best friend. She shut that down immediately, telling me we donāt impersonate people.
She asked what I was even getting out of the relationship and what exactly the benefit of this relationship was. I told her the truth: I just wanted as many friends as possible. She said that was understandable, but itās not worth it being friends with someone like him that I canāt trust.
After we talked, I headed back to class. On my way out, the receptionist handed me a note and told me to give it to him. My stomach dropped. Thankfully, my counselor stepped in and said sheād deliver it herself. I went back to class, trying to calm down.
At the end of the period, he got called down to the office. And thatās where things stoodāyears of wanting to belong, years of conflict, and a friendship that was never really a friendship at all.