I had made an insanely interesting friend. He was intriguing and we talked about a lot of things. I got to know his mind so well, that I just knew how he thought without needing to ask. Since he told me so much, I started taking about myself, or rather I was stumbling around, not really knowing what I was saying or doing. It seemed fair and these conversations were fun and engaging.
Then I learnt he had done this for a reason. There was an end goal to telling me all these things about him. He was going to attempt something and needed someone to know what was happening and such.
I felt used and had given him a load of somehow incorrect information on accident (I didn’t know how to explain a lot of things, so he misunderstood me.) I had communicated this and at some point he decided he couldn’t understand me, no matter how hard he tried and gave up. I didn’t quite catch this. I kept talking. I kept talking to a wall that listened and didn’t evaluate.
Then he changed. I could still often guess how he was thinking, but I could clearly feel that he was different from what I used to know. The information I had previously had been rendered useless, but he still had mine. Wasn’t that unfair? Even though he didn’t actually comprehend many parts, it was scary to me that he might in the future and I wouldn’t.
So should I change?
Or should I cheat him into deleting all our shared messages and sneak anything he received from me away?
After all, it seemed I was the only one who actually cared about the other. Who gave gifts. Who understood.
He just wanted to help me because I had helped him. It was an empty care, that only existed for repayment.
The payment for being used, was him offering himself up to be used as an emotional punching bag. It hurt, because I realised he never had the same connection and understanding I had for him.
So if I had lost the value of the information I had received, I at least had to take some information from him, right? Parts of me argued, that this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t do this. Other, more emotional, primitive and simple parts didn’t care how radical it was. Hurt turned into anger, anger turned into fear of what might come. I didn’t know what he was like now. He had changed. What if he used the information against me? What if he used me again?
To balance it out at least a bit, I want to delete our chat and steal the things back. Will he notice as I’m doing it? Maybe, but I have to risk it! Right?
I can’t ask anyone of this is too radical. They will surely say yes, don’t do it.
I have to though. I’d have to kill the me that I am now, if I want to make this fair another way, but I can’t want that. I’d have to live a lie in fear of being discovered. I’d have lose my closest friends, because the fear would drive me away, but I can’t leave them. I can’t do that.
I see no other way and I can’t live with this persistent fear and hatred. Maybe it will fade as I get older, or maybe I will hold on to these emotions and take them to my grave.
I am still very young. I might mature and change, but this might also be one of my last chances, to retrieve what I have given. I have three and a half months to think and decide. Maybe I will come to my senses, maybe there is another way after all?
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