So, a conversation happened, as they do. Politics came up, as they do. COVID came up, as it does. Apparently, speaking truthfully (if callously) about people who do not and refuse to wear masks themselves dying of--or at least getting sick from--the virus was enough to spark a response of "You are mentally fucked dude" and they go offline. I figure it was internet, or maybe they raged out and things would be normal the next day. And then a couple days later, them never seeming to log back in, I notice I'm not in their patreon discord anymore, they're gone from my Steam friends list, and they're gone from Telegram.

They full on blocked me.

I genuinely do not know what triggered this. If they somehow were getting tired of me, there was no indication. We had just been playing a game the night before or night before that. They have openly praised me for being one of the few genuine and honest people they consider a friend, who don't want something out of them for the friendship other than company. They're a rather cynical person and is quick to distrust (as well as pig headedness and anger, as some arguments we've had can attest to, and they would openly acknowledge such labels), but we developed a history. I seemed among the minimally few consistent people they could spend time with and trust. We've covered weird topics before, we've spoken darkly before, shared dark humor, but we certainly seemed to know who each other were. And yet, some years of friendship have apparently ended in a sudden and confusing error beep.

"You are mentally fucked dude"
"How so," i ask within seconds.
"This person is offline," replies the beeping bot.

So, fair enough if they were struck by my callousness. To bring you up to speed on the conversation, they had been talking about how so many people are just letting the virus keep them from living. My retort was that many people either do not take it seriously, or even deny it is harmful or is as bad as it is, and how that ruins it for everyone else. I blurt out the suggestion a good third of the USA is like this (certainly, a significant portion is far too lazy, apathetic, or selfish about mask wearing) and analogize it as, how safe would you feel on the road if a full third of all drivers were DUI? They suggest these people don't exactly deny its existence, but they still go out and live while others do not. And so, my callous response...

"I think you've missed my point. Many of those same people suddenly aren't living so much, either literally because they died of COVID or figuratively because they're in quarantine recovering from it and hoping they don't suffer lasting effects like a scarred heart or some shit"

"You are mentally fucked dude"

*BLOCKED*

Was it the way I responded? Did they somehow think I was saying the people staying home are the ones dying (and in all honestly, they are, too)? Was explaining the reality of the situation that plenty of those people out there "living" have actively spread, caught, and even died from the virus? Or been permanently harmed by it such as having their heart scarred? I have no clue. They've heard me speak callously before. They've spoken callously, too, and far worse (remember their quick-to-anger pig headedness? It has gotten them in trouble before and they accept and acknowledge their faults). And yet, I am blocked. I don't get it. I mean, seriously, case in point: Herman Cain. The guy goes to the Tulsa rally, proudly tweets a selfie out about being there, and within a few more weeks he dies of the virus he caught at the rally. And whatever subhuman scumbags control the man's Twitter account decided to tweet out, after he dies, how the mainstream media is overblowing the virus. I'm going to dare share more than I had the chance to share with my now former friend. I laughed when I learned of Herman Cain's death. I couldn't help myself but laugh at the absurd. I have a bit of a nihilist streak (it keeps me sane). I mean, for real, the guy denies the virus is a problem, ignores all possible guidelines to remain safe, and ultimately catches it and dies. Trump himself nearly fucking died from it if not for the fact he's the president and got pumped full of steroids and stem cells to fight it. Not to break on too much of a tangent here, but we're almost certainly going to hit 100k cases in a day by mid november because simply not enough people take the virus seriously. Simply because of so many people out there "living" their lives versus being too "scared" to live, who don't wear masks properly or at all and don't engage with any other recommendations to stay safe and reduce the spread. They "live" at the expense of the whole country and our economy, forcing the rest of us taking it seriously to slowly grow more and more stir crazy because of these incredibly selfish people.

But, recognizing all of this means I'm fucked in the head.

If that is all it took to end what was by all accounts a strong friendship, then I guess all I've done in the end is dodge a bullet. They were a difficult person at times (again, the pig headedness) but there was still a warm and genuine heart under that jagged and crudely blunt exterior. I feel weird as hell. I just hope this helps get it out of my head and let me move on sooner than later. Feel odd looking at the art they've done for me now, but I guess I'll get over that. Still paid for the stuff after all.

I'm not exactly seeking pity or anyone's condolences here. Like I said, just hoping putting this out there makes the anxiety less severe and weird. But, thanks for reading at least. And if YOU (yes, you, the "they" in this journal) read this... Seriously? The fuck? Good luck with the move when it happens, I guess? Have a nice (and lonely) life?