It serves me right to suffer some, I suppose. That doesn\u2019t mean I have to Like \u2022 Comment \u2022 Share that fact with everyone. Still, I do. But as the hours turn into days, and the days will soon be a week, I\u2019ve stopped feeling hopeful when a text message chirps, or my customized ring buzzes with a call. The phone is easier to ignore, because it\u2019s never the ring I\u2019ve assigned to her. I\u2019ve stopped grabbing the iPhone to immediately scroll through my new messages because deep down I know none of them will be from her. Sometimes I won\u2019t even check for 10 minutes after getting one. I can\u2019t even follow what\u2019s happening with her life on Facebook because she\u2019s either blocked me, or deactivated the account. The optimist in me truly hopes it\u2019s the latter.<\/p>\n
A total Facebook block of a single individual is probably the most effective way to tell someone online that, \u201cYou are no longer welcome in my inner circle, and probably not in my life at all.\u201d I find the fact that this inner circle doesn\u2019t include me but does include more than 100,000 of her Friends of Friends particularly depressing.<\/p>\n
I used to know her password. The level of trust that represents is superhuman. The spare key to your apartment and all of your pin numbers put together would still not come even close. A password is a key to the intimacies of hundreds of Facebook friends, but more importantly it allows access to the birthing canal of your online identity. In a Google world where everything is stored forever, your reputation online is more important than it is in your circle of real life friends. Like herpes, anything that happens online never goes away once the search engines find it, and unlike Vegas it doesn\u2019t stay anywhere but often propagates at the exponential speed of viral communication.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m getting off message. The point is it was one hell of a fall from shared passwords to virtual blockade. And for someone like me who lives online, it\u2019s not hyperbole to liken it to a little death.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh god, K, you\u2019re so dramatic. I had to cut you off. You kept posting weird shit on my wall. My family reads that you know?\u201d
\n\u201cI was going to tell you that it\u2019s probably not a good idea to friend your kids. You\u2019re 16-year old doesn\u2019t need to know what you look like dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly.\u201d
\n\u201cWell, if it makes you feel better I deactivated my account completely.\u201d
\n\u201cIt actually does. Singling out one person out of 500,000,000 users is quite a statement don\u2019t you think? At least now I blend in with the rest of the planet.\u201d
\n\u201cI wanted my privacy back. And I felt like I had to respond to everyone that contacted me. I don\u2019t need that. I actually feel free.\u201d
\n\u201cHippie.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It serves me right to suffer some, I suppose. That doesn\u2019t mean I have to Like \u2022 Comment \u2022 Share that fact with everyone. Still, I do. But as the hours turn into days, and the days will soon be a week, I\u2019ve stopped feeling hopeful when a text message chirps, or my customized ring … <\/p>\n