Un-friend your ex.

My friend called me today. He said “I was creeping your facebook page and I saw that you are still friends with you-know-who. Why the hell is that?” “Because” I say casually, (a dark cloud of defensiveness rolls over me) “I blocked him, so I don’t get his updates but it’s kinda’ dramatic to kill him off completely so, I’m just casual about it I guess.”

“Sure, I guess” he says “just like you would be casual about an old lamp of his sitting in your living room. You know it’s there, you see it every day, but it doesn’t really effect you anymore, I guess?”

ugly lamp

“Yah, exactly, an old lamp I don’t even see anymore. I don’t even notice it and I don’t even care enough to move it.”


“Hmm, that’s weird because I know if I had some old chair or a blanket of an ex’s lying around I would have to get it the hell out of my house.”

“Ya, not me. And this is different. It’s not a chair in my house, it’s in cyberspace, it doesn’t effect me.”

“Of COURSE it effects you” he yells. “You see it every fucking day. He hurt you, you need to heal. You have got to un-friend him.”

“You unfriend him then!”

“Fine I will.”

“No, no, don’t…”

“…And what is REALLY interesting to me is how much resistance you have towards NOT un-friending him.”

“I am not being resistant. I don’t even care. I don’t care so much I don’t even have the energy to push the un-friend button. That’s how neutral I am and what are you Donahue? It’s like you are eviscerating me and I didn’t ask for this. I am not a bad person. I am doing my best and not creeping on him too much and…”


“I didn’t say you were a bad person” he said. “Wow, I had no idea how socially uncouth it was to un-friend someone.”

“It’s symbolically killing them” I say. “It’s harsh and cruel.”

“Oh, okay, sorry.”

“And I’m bigger than that and he’s not a bad person and it’s energy I don’t want to give him, the energy of un-friend-ing him is more energy than just leaving it alone…and I’m done with giving it any energy.”


“…it’s like you are ripping out my guts through my lungs here and I didn’t ask for this. Who are you Maury Povich? Anyway…IF I un-friend him, it’s not like I couldn’t just creep on him anyway because his account is all access so it doesn’t really matter either way.”

“The lamp is sitting in the corner and it’s time to clean house Em.”


“Stop attacking me. I’ve just sat down. I’m catching my breath after climbing up to this plateau and now you are above me yelling “Climb more! Scale this granite face!”

“I had no idea. I just mentioned that I still saw him as your friend. I had no idea it was such a big deal.”

“I hear you man, I hear you loud and clear motherfucker. I’ll think about it.”

“I’m sorry if this hurts you, I didn’t mean…”

“I know, I know- you are not intentionally trying to ruin my life… okay, I have a cyber attachment still. Fine. There. I said it. I’ll think about it.”

I know in this moment that as he called me out I now have to start the climb.


“What do you think it was before facebook?” I ask my dear friend.

“I don’t even remember, ya, like what did we have to give up or cut off in the olden days?”

“Um, I guess burning old love letters and ripping up photos and stuff?”

“Ya, ya, that was it, letters and photos- and that shit you can’t EVER get back either, it’s really gone for good.”

“How will he be able to see how good I’m looking and how well I’m doing?”


“I know, I know, I’ll go do it.”

I can hear my friend take a breath on the phone. He loves me so.

“He shit the bed Em, it’s time for you to clean the sheets.”