People I Meet

the Boy with the Broken Heart

April 26, 2010 at 7:07 am (i've met)

I spent last night catching up with some friends I haven’t seen in months. As we were wrapping up dinner, the younger brother of one of my friends stopped by the restaurant to say hello. It had been a while since I’d seen him around and he looked visibly different.  He’d grown a beard, and his once happy and smiley face looked somber.

The only empty chair at the table was the one next to me, so he plopped down and we began awkward small talk. It took me only a few seconds to recognize the reason for his change–he’d suffered a broken heart since I’d seen him last.

As we continued to talk, he opened up on his own. When I asked him what he’d been up to, he said self-improvement–reading, classes, and alone time to reflect. He said he had plenty of time to pursue his new hobbies because he’d quit facebook. He deactivated his profile initially because there were too many reminders of his ex, but when he realized how much free time he now had, he decided not to go back.

This conversation couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. When I broke up with the Young Man at the Comedy Show, I deleted him from my list of friends. It seemed a dramatic, but necessary gesture. Yet, many of his friends are still my own, and seeing their updates and pictures is sometimes a painful reminder that his life no longer includes me.

Then there’s the time suck. I bought a new laptop because I was itching to write, but have used it only to write on facebook walls. I returned from the library last week with a stack of books–the stack is gathering dust on my kitchen table as I spend my time reading status updates and articles that show up in my newsfeed. I have a hundred words to learn for my weekly Arabic class, but instead of flipping through my flashcards, I flip through pictures of people I barely know.

And just like that, I decided to quit.  I gave everyone around the the table my status update–I’m done with facebook! The announcement caused barely a ripple. We’ll see how long this lasts, someone muttered.

I’m giving myself 40 days–isn’t that how long it takes to break a habit?  If, at the end of the 40 days, I feel as though I’m missing out on too much, I’ll reconsider.

In the meantime, I’ll pull out those Arabic flashcards, dive into that stack of books, and visit this blog more often.

Thank you to the Boy with the Broken Heart.