Love in the Age of Social Media: Part 2

This is part two in a short, fictional series about love in the age of social media.

Post-breakup, I could have kissed Mark Zuckerberg. Facebook Events was made for situations like this. For years, I avoided her. There were no awkward encounters, no chance meetings. If there was a party, I knew if she’d be there. Weddings, baptisms, birthdays — I skipped them all.

It was ironic. The Internet made it easier to avoid her in real life but hell to avoid online. Avoiding her IRL meant unblocking her on Facebook. That created its own set of problems.

The night she got engaged, I was one of the first to know. It popped up in my feed as a congratulatory status from a mutual friend.

The day she married him, I saw the whole event through a series of tagged photographs, from the moment she got her make-up on to walking down the aisle. It wasn’t how I’d imagined her wedding, watching her marry someone else.

I didn’t know if it was the Internet’s fault or mine but I couldn’t forget her. At least once a week, I had to check her Twitter. I had to know what her life was like without me. Was she happy? Was that a fake smile in that profile picture with him? Why did they check into our favourite restaurant together? Was nothing sacred? Did the memory of me not hurt anymore? Maybe it never hurt to begin with. Maybe she never searched for my name the way I searched for hers.

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