We’re not prepared for this shit.
Remember the golden days of getting dumped, way back when, pre my/face, when a break up meant nothing more than a few late night notsosober phone calls? Or a little harsh rumour starting? Or throwing all the game you’ve got at her best friend, or better yet, polite disinterest?
Those days are now a memory, forever predicated to past tense, thanks entirely to the space/book phenomenon.
Obsession is inherent in the heartbroken, we think it helps; sometimes does, usually doesn’t.
Facebook has changed the game in almost every way, but for me, the most significant was how we deal with grief in love. How are we expected to move on when we have their entire photo album, every meaningless thought that pops into their head, and any bullshit link they feel expresses who they are at but a click away. A profile is a perpetually updated description of their life, attitude, look and mood, so when you’re no longer influencing those things, you’ll see it in full view.
Everyone moves on, nothing lasts, we all know that. The pain comes from seeing their smile grow bigger with their new toy, or seeing them fall into the arms of the exact type the two of you once made fun of together. It comes from seeing them get that tattoo you helped her pick out. It comes from her advertising ‘in a relationship’ when she always told you she thought that was lame. Or seeing her status change to “C… is so in love it’s gross!!!” (true story, that one fuckin hurt). The pain comes from seeing with your own eyes, that on camera (and most likely in reality) they make a much cuter couple than the two of you ever did. It comes from having who they’ve become without you at the click of a button.
Gumption and character in the face of heartbreak once meant confrontation, reconciliation and for the sensually adroit, maybe even seduction. Now it means deleting them as a contact, sending their friend a transparently motivated message or a fake lovely wall post, and browsing through the photos of the two of you together you still don’t have the cahones to get rid of.
We are so not ready for this shit.