Facebook is making me feel like I should invest in a long trench coat, a blonde wig and some “sexy” aviators. I am turning into an ex-boyfriend creeper without even trying (and if I am going to do that I should at least have the outfit, right?).
Have the rest of you noticed the wonderful column on the right side of your screen that tells you what is happening on Facebook every second? Well, in the case of exes, that column may as well be an ad service:
“Your ex just got hit on by another woman! Click here to find out her name, what she looks like and what she had for breakfast!”
“Your ex doesn’t like you anymore, but he sure is busy liking everything but you! Click here to find out what new interests (that don’t include you) have been liked!”
And the thing is, these ridiculous updates are actually bothering me. Why then, you ask, don’t I just unfriend? Just click the button to end this mess? Well, I have thought of a few reasons:
See, really, it is probably integral that I maintain friend status with my ex on Facebook, right?
Chances are, you have seen through my argument. “Silly woman,” you are thinking. “Why are you torturing yourself?”
Because – this is one of the major stages of recovery from the break up: Self-flagellation. For the same reason we listen to sad, sappy songs, look at happy pictures and save a note or sappy text, we sometimes want to hurt – just to remind ourselves that it did happen. In other words: “I hate to break it to you and me, but it is over.”
“It is over.”
“It is over.”
Repeat as necessary.
All we are doing by keeping the social media friendship alive, is reminding ourselves that it is over. And I think we already know that. Back in the days before social media ran our lives, break-ups were just that. The relationship was broken off. Contact was restricted to phone calls or face-to-face meetings. The passive-aggressive techniques of the cyber-creep were non-existent. And we managed just fine.
And so, I will not order the trench coat. The blonde wig will stay safely with my last-year’s Marilyn Monroe costume. And I really don’t look good in aviators anyway. I am going to head on to the next stage of heart-break: Moving on, and that starts with clicking that friend button, scrolling down and clicking “unfriend.”