Gege didn’t think making a new friend would feel like serving time, but here he was—mentally exhausted, emotionally bruised, and questioning every decision that led up to today.
It started harmlessly enough. A new kid showed up, confident, loud, and way too comfortable way too fast. Everyone seemed impressed. Everyone except Gege. From the first conversation, it was obvious this “friend” had a talent: saying the most jail things imaginable with zero hesitation. No warning. No filter. Just straight emotional damage.
Every time Gege spoke, the new friend had a response that felt like a personal attack disguised as honesty. New haircut? “Oh… you meant to do that?” New shoes? “Those are brave.” New opinion? Immediately shut down with a laugh that echoed way too loudly. It wasn’t yelling. It wasn’t bullying. It was worse—casual, effortless, and delivered with a smile.
Gege tried to laugh it off. Friends joke, right? But this felt different. This felt like being roasted on a daily schedule with no parole in sight.
The worst part was that everyone else loved them. “They’re so funny!” people said. Funny. Right. If emotional prison had a spokesperson, this friend would be it. Gege started choosing silence over conversation, nodding instead of speaking, just to avoid another comment that would live rent-free in his head for the rest of the week.
Still, there were moments that confused him. Rare ones. Like when the friend defended him in front of others or remembered small details no one else noticed. It made Gege pause. Maybe this wasn’t cruelty. Maybe this was just… their way.
But intent doesn’t erase impact.
One afternoon, after yet another “joke” that hit too close, Gege finally snapped—not loudly, not dramatically, just honestly. He said it felt like being locked up every time they talked. The friend blinked, surprised. For once, they didn’t laugh.
They apologized. Not perfectly. Not smoothly. But sincerely enough to matter.
Things didn’t change overnight. The jokes didn’t disappear, but they softened. And Gege learned something important: friendship isn’t about enduring constant damage just to keep someone around. Real friends notice when the jokes go too far. They listen when you say, “Hey, that hurt.”
Gege wasn’t free yet—but at least the cell door was open.
And that made all the difference.
