You like my pictures out of the blue. You comment them, making sweet remarks. You haven’t done that before. What has changed? Do you like me more than you used to? I know it wasn’t real. But it still hurt. Like a spectre of pain. A feeling that was more inside my head than anywhere else. Because it wasn’t out there in the world. Just there. Inside my phone.
We met in real life. On a birthday party. It was a mutual friend of ours. I came with another friend. We went inside. I saw you. You wore a beige, white and green striped shirt. You looked over for a moment. I wish you had not. You pierced me with your looks as if it was a knife.
My friend and me chatted for a while. You looked over again. Later that night we talked for a bit. You asked if I lived here. I told you I didn’t. You asked again to make sure. Why did you ask twice? I said no. I would be moving away soon. You appeared disappointed. I asked you to exchange Instagram with me. You said yes. I liked that. I followed you. You followed me back. Did you like me? Cause I liked you. I thought you did too.
On Instagram I sent you a message. I wanted to know if you might want to meet me. See me before I left. Just casual, or maybe a date. You said no, you had no time. Besides, you said you weren’t over your ex. You didn’t want to date. This was not fate. I said, sure fair enough. I was moving away anyway. What would have happened if I stayed? I could not say.
But let’s keep in touch, you texted.
For weeks I did not hear from you.
Then you start liking my pictures on Instagram.
You like another one the next day.
Then you comment on my latest post. Do you try to flirt? Why the sudden interest again?
You like another picture the next day. Why are you so obsessed with me? But I like it that you like me. You like my pics and another post. Do you suddenly like me the most?
You comment on a selfie. You say that I look hot.
Later that night you unfollow me.
What was that about, I ask you. Why like my pics and unfollow me? It feels weird. Are you playing or something? You apologise. You say you unfollowed me by accident. You follow me back again. I don’t know what to think about this. You knew that I liked you. That I wanted to go on a date with you when I was still there. What are you playing at? We text, we flirt, it’s so easy on here. But you are not telling the truth, I fear.
I ask you how you are doing. You are fine. You ask me how it’s going at my new place, in that other city. I say it’s cool. We flirt. We text. I respond quicker than you do. Was that a mistake? Probably. I wonder why we text again. It’s not like we could meet up. But when you meet a person you like, one you double tapped too often, it doesn’t let you go.
We are all so connected. We like each other’s pictures and it means so much and it means nothing at all. We like, we comment, we follow, we dislike, we unfollow, we shitstorm. We exist. But it’s not real. None of it. We can say whatever we want on here, flirt and hurt so easily. It all happens within nothingness. But it means something without being real.
It means nothing. At least nothing to you.
We text again. We flirt. Again. Then you tell me you started dating someone. I am surprised. I didn’t know. I didn’t understand. Wasn’t I someone? Why all that liking, commenting and texting. It feels wrong. What you did and what you made me feel about you. You say we can be friends. I say what for. I don’t understand what all of this was about. You have no explanation. There is no more conversation. I unfollow you this time.
You like another post of mine. I thought I was no one. Why did you flirt, comment and text, I thought, I was just, thank you next? You realise I unfollowed you. Didn’t want to play that game no more. You unfollow me too. No idea how you felt about it. Probably nothing. It’s so easy to avoid someone on here. Avoid confrontation. When it’s getting uncomfortable let’s not have a conversation. Leave things unsaid and undone. I hope I don’t meet you again. I hope I don’t meet you again in real life.
But did you like me? Cause you liked it all. But I guess it’s all so easy on here to lie about it all.
My generation says something or anything so quickly online. It matters and it matters not. It never happened. We delete conversations, we block people. It’s so easy. It’s not real life. Yet, we exist in that other world more than here. We say things on here we would never say out in front of another person, a friend, a stranger. But we do it all on here. It’s so easy. We are in between. We are here and there. We try to balance two sides of the same coin. But it doesn’t work. Because one side of the coin is not as real as the other one. It’s not a fake but it’s not the truth. It’s fading but always there. Like waves by the ocean ebbing away and coming back. For you.
So show me some love next time. Don’t show me instalove. Cause it’s not real. Cause I want you to look me in the eyes when you lie to me. I want to see you when you do it. Cause then at least I can judge for myself. When you mean it. And when you don’t. I can see it in your eyes. Hear it in your voice. But on here, it’s too easy to say something you don’t mean. A text message is just that. Just that and nothing at all. So show me something real next time. Cause most of it is fake on here. I don’t need it in my DMs too. Keep it real. Keep it off insta and show me some love.