Because I don’t want to see you.
You know who you are.
(Disclaimer – There are several yous. But there is one in particular that I will avoid at all costs. And that is the one I’m addressing here.)
Because you were horrible to me.
(Think friends can’t be abusers, think again.)
You continue to ask mutual friends, close to twenty years after our graduation, “I don’t understand why we’re not friends anymore.”
You have asshole amnesia. So I call bullshit.
It wasn’t just one horrible thing, it was escalating incidents of putting me down, setting up public humiliations for me, until one final insane emotionally abusive incident finally physically compelled me to stop talking to you. I’ve never talked since that winter term day on the Mudd Library staircase and I never will again.
Mutual friends don’t understand because it didn’t happen to them. And they just want me to patch it up because it’s easier for them that way. It makes them uncomfortable but fuck them. And it didn’t happen to them. You didn’t abuse them the way you abused me.
So hell no, I won’t go back to Oberlin. I’ll never have enough armor.