Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Facebook, You Dirty Whore

Life may not give you more than you can handle.
But it certainly makes you feel like you're losing your fucking mind sometimes. 

He's getting married. 
Who, you might ask?
Just the kid I spent enough years of my life with I could have earned a communications degree I'd never use.
Who then concluded, after such a long and arduous Friendship Degree, we could not, in fact, be friends since the lady of his heart forbade it. 
The lady he's apparently marrying/married to/enfianced/occasionally having coitus with.
I don't actually know my stalking skills were limited. 
Stalking?! You gasp.
Yes, stalking, that thing the men who claim they don't want to have sex with me anymore do when their girlfriends and/or wives are in the toilet. 
On the toilet?
I doubt the ladies of their heart fall in.

I don't know why I suddenly wanted to look at his social media. 
He blocked me a year ago and I never really thought about it, other than the occasional text to his mother wanting to feel somehow still connected to my BS Degree in Failed Relationships. 
But something about this Monday, maybe it was coloring the picture of Prince or the second Old Pal I was drinking, but I suddenly elbowed my friend who was already on Facebook and cried, Oooh, look him up!

I don't really know what I was expecting to see. 
Mostly just his face, I guess, since it had been so fucking long. 
And suddenly there it was, pasted across her iPhone 6. 
Smirking at the camera, her ring perched against his chest. 
Oh my god, I said. 
They're getting married?

It was at this moment that my friend, like all good friends, started to ask if I was ok. 
Are you sure you're ok?
And of course they know you're not ok but it's like a test to determine if you're going to lose it then, in a public bar, or later in the seclusion of your bedroom and the judgement of your onlooking cat. 
I'm fine. I'm fine. 
My repetition making it vastly apparent how UN fine I was. 

I'm not really sure why it bothered me so much. 
Because I'd been in love with him years ago?
That didn't feel quite it. 
It was more the fact that our lives were so separate, so completely unintertwined with one another that I didn't even know something so significant was happening to him. 
And here I was in Timing's warped infinite loop, reeling from rejection by the same ex lover who'd ended things with me this same time last year. 
I felt a little like a kid standing in the mud, my party dress ruined, wondering why I couldn't be laughing down the slide with the rest of the normal kids. 

I'm not a normal kid. 
I'm a weird girl. 

And then, as suddenly as I felt my heart had been bitch slapped, I no longer cared about my ex lover choosing someone else. 
I no longer needed to talk things out or wear something sexy for him to drool over and wish I'd turn around so he could smack my perfect ass again. 

I just wanted him in my life. 

If my options were never talking to him again or high fiving the girl who won exclusive rights to my favorite appendage then could I please just salute her victory?
Could we just forget what completely we weren't to each other and delight in what we were?
I'm so sick of losing people I care about. 
I'd rather wave to each other every full moon than resent what they can't give me. 
I gladly accept what can be offered. 
Life's too fucking short to be blocked. 
Especially by someone whose hug restores your soul. 
If what we shared has changed or is gone at least let me have the occasional emoji. 
Surely we could at least have that.
Surely you at least want me to have that. 













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