I Am Not Stalking Facebook Photos Of You With Your New Boyfriend, I Swear
I’m so over you. Right?! I mean, I thought I was until I opened my Facebook and it told me you went from being “Single” to “In a relationship,” even though we just broke up 18 days 5 hours and 15 minutes ago. Not that I’m counting, because I’m not. It didn’t work out between us, I get it. But we were together for such a long time. How could you move on so quickly? I’m not even sad or upset or mad at you anymore. Not. One. Bit.
Since I’m not Facebook friends with your new “boyfriend” I can’t see his profile, but I can see that he went to Vassar, so now I already know what to think. He’s tagged in all of your recent photos, and as soon as I see him I’m thinking, “You picked him over me? Who names their son “Keviin” — it’s not even spelled right. His roots need to be touched up and that photo of him with the tiny dog in the gym bag makes him look silly.” I’m thinking how funny it is that he and I seem to be the same height and that he has a tattoo of a dolphin on the inside of his wrist, and you and I used to make fun of gay dudes with stupid tattoos all the time.
What’s so great about this guy that you picked him over me?
(Not) Scrolling through your photos I’m seeing how happy you look with “Keviin,” and I start to get a little bit jealous, I admit. I’m thinking about how happy you and I were when we first started dating, how we were inseparable, how we used to talk about cultural theory, how I when I stayed over I would just watch you sleep because you were so cute, how when we ate out I would put my hand on your D and tell you all the things I was going to do it as soon as we got home, how one summer we binge-watched 192 episodes of 24 in a month and that was our “thing,” how you always brought me little presents just to say that you were thinking about me.
When we broke up I deleted your number from my phone (but not the shirtless/D pics, obvs) because you made me so mad and I didn’t want to see your name in my recent message history. I wanted to avoid you so I wouldn’t remember how much you hurt me, so I wouldn’t feel the urge to text, even though, OK, I did write your number down on a piece of paper I hid from myself — just in case.
How can I delete you from my phone but I can’t bring myself to unfriend you on Facebook? A Facebook delete just seems so final. All those tagged photos, wall posts, Pokes – gone. Plus, you’d know if I deleted you and you haven’t unfriended me yet, so clearly neither of us wants to totally erase the other. The thing is, even though I have passing thoughts about you from time to time, I think about you the most when you show up in my Facebook feed because Facebook life is real life. Then, when I’m least expecting it, Boop!, there goes that notification, just dangling in front of me, laughing. David Baumgardner is now in a relationship with Keviin Watson.
Going through the photos, which thankfully I can do in the privacy of my own bed at 3 a.m. without you knowing, I’m thinking about how good you look in that sweater I got you for your birthday last year and I wonder if you still think about me. Wonder if I should tell you that you still have some socks over at my place, do you want them. Wonder if I should send you an email. Wonder if I should send you a text that just says, “Hey.”
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My ears listened to what they wanted me to believe.
3. Don’t get mad, get everything.
But I am here to talk about realities, realities that are based on experiences, guy talks (who cares about that?) and late night chats with good female friends of mine.
Many people know of Jack Kerouac’s fiction, but few know of his penchant for recording his dreams.