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Tuesday, March 25

Cick the X

There is a new feature (maybe not so new, but newly appreciated) on my News Feed. Next to each item there is a thumbs up sign and large "X". The purpose of these buttons is to let the puppetmasters of Facebook know what type of stalking you would like to do and what peices of information you do and do not like.

And when I saw the tiny broken heart at the top of my feed I compared it to the one I've been bandaging this evening. A quick glance to the left and the two choices caught my eye. Without a thought I promptly clicked the "X". I absolutely do not like this information. I ABSOLUTELY do NOT want to see it at the top of my News Feed.

But it wouldn't go away. It just faded like I had forgotten to take it out of my pants and run it through the wash. I wanted to wad it up, rip it up and burn it in some Rubbish fire - it would belong there. Not your heart, of course - but the brokenness.

Things aren't spoke to work this way, you know. People are supposed to find each other, fall in love, and then live _____ (fill in your own blank) ever after. There aren't supposed to be tiny broken hearts in my news feed. We aren't supposed to make these mistakes. But that's what happens when you run holding precious things in your hands. When you trip they fall to the ground and shatter. Good luck piecing together the itsy, bitsy, shining, crying parts.

I tried tonight to piece together my own shining bits of a glass heart. I felt like I was doing one of those puzzles with a thousand pieces. A picture of the sky where all the pieces look the same and none of them seem to fit together. And then when you finally start to get them in the right places you realize a large chunk of them has dissapeared. You must have taken them with you.

Oscar Wilde said that the heart was made to be broken.


Oscar Wilde is a fucking liar.

1 comments:

Little Fish said...

This is why I have NO relationship status. And I won't. Not even when I'm married.

And they're not made to be broken. But they won't sing unless they are.