I came home on Sunday to find an old-now-awkwardly-distant-but-still--very-dear-to-me friend had removed me from her Facebook. I was angry (I can't help it) and hurt and sad. We used to have the same values, but we don't anymore. We don't really talk anymore either, so our personal connection sort of evaporated. And if I put myself in her shoes, I can imagine her taking certain things I posted personally, perhaps even feeling attacked by them--which can happen so easily when you stop talking and only stalk one another's Facebook profile now and then. So I understand. But I wish ... I wish.
It's funny, because a month or so ago I felt that disconnection acutely, and I sent her a message saying hi, and she answered. And you know, I remembered writing in that message, "I love you." But in fact, when I went back to check, I didn't.
But I do. That is where the message came from. She had no way of knowing that I jolted out of bed at 1am thinking of her, praying for her, rushing to the computer to initiate some sort of connection.
Oh Facebook. The fact of the matter is she would have been long gone without this silly social networking site. But it would have been a drifting, rather than a conscious choice.
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Someone from my MFA program just posted about some amazing news relating to their novel, and I am pretty excited for them. And it made me think about my own writing, which I haven't been doing much of. Which is the problem. The not-thinking, and the not-writing.
And it left a sinking feeling in my stomach. Not a diminishment of happiness for my fellow-writer, because I am so happy for her and she is incredibly talented, and I knew and hoped she would be published soon. But I found myself thinking, that will never be me. It won't be me because I've barely written in eight months and even if I felt motivated enough to try I know the words are all stopped up and awkward because they have been for two years or more.
But typing that is like a wrench to my insides, so I know I am not resigned to "that will never be me." Not yet. It's a weird sort of hope, knowing that you won't ever be able to completely let go of something. Because if you don't turn it into hope then it's pretty depressing in its own right.
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And now the ol' navel is cleared of lint, so I shall stop examining it in public.
One day, when Michael is able to be left to himself for a while and you can have your hands back, you'll find that all your chores are done, the book that you're reading doesn't quite appeal to you right then to continue, and you've finished some outstanding (in both meanings of the word) knitting projects. You'll look toward your computer or a notebook and a pen, and you'll start to write again. You've had three huge life changes: you got married, had a child, and got an MFA. Everything has shifted. One day, it will shift back. I have faith in this. You are meant to be published too, Rosemary, and I will be so happy for you when you are (and jealous that it didn't yet happen to me).
ReplyDeleteReally interesting reflection on the role of FB in artificially extending "relationships" that would long since have slowly extinguished...I find myself in that same place with a number of people.
ReplyDeleteI know very much how you feel. In the latter half of college (you remember how I was on Facebook back in those days) I didn’t exactly win friends or influence people, in fact quite the contrary. But for the most part it didn't bother me... until one of my best friends was turned against me by her then boyfriend (another close friend of mine… or so I thought) and stopped talking to me for 8 months. We finally started talking again and I cleared up the lies but by that time the damage was done. Leaving for seminary only cut me off more from everyone except a very small handful of friends. But it was when I got back that things kind of hit me all at once that these friendships that I still cherished and these people I still care for deeply were gone, and not really because of a difference in values, distance, or lack of the ability to communicate (I tried) but simply couldn’t be bothered with me anymore. And it hurts but I still pray for them as I always have, and just remember that our Lord was betrayed and abandoned by all of his dearest friends (save one) in his darkest hour.
ReplyDeleteAbout your writing: Maybe you will someday. I think you will, once we've reached that mythical stage of motherhood when things settle down. But even if you never do, it's because you made a choice to say "yes" to the life you have now with Keith and Michael. And that's worth any number of novels.
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