Social media fascinates me. Seriously. It’s like walking through the 1950s clothes lines and checking out each others laundry. Talking over the fence with neighbors. Chatting like there are no miles between you.
Then, you see the frilly pink bra. Or the tighty-whities. Or something in-between. And, the magic is gone. The bubble burst. The fence is suddenly 20 stories high. Banter stops. Suspicion erupts.
Unfriending happens. Do I unfriend all our mutual friends? Who gets custody of the group photos? And the memories. Who gets those? And who gets the bitter break up?
Honestly, if you can’t handle social media, then get off the computer. There’s a reason one company has a minimum age for joining. Theoretically, you’re old enough to know better.
Oh yes, former friend. Stomp around and trash me. Say whatever makes you feel better. Because, the one person you desire most to inflict pain upon can no longer see your posts. Of course, you wouldn’t understand that. Thinking through your actions requires maturity that prevents people from making dramatic exits. For someone who professes intense dislike of drama….well you get the picture.