I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. It's the accident I can't seem to look away from. I know I must once again push that 'delete' button. Eventually...
Especially after I saw the photo that nearly had me. Such an innocuous image of neighbors from the hood, hugging and smiling. So, why would this picture bring back such ugly memories for me? The me, who hid in my room and listened to the Beatles, Carol King, The Stones, anything that made me not think of where I was. I was a loner by choice, I always thought, although, it may have been an autonomous rejection from my peers. I'm not sure which came first, my voluntary exile, or will-less children bound together by circumstance.
That feeling of being lost, a drifter, a loser, has dissipated over the years, nearly melted away by the many good things that have come my way.
Yet, that one image brought it all back of how much I was left alone to live in my own thoughts, to build rage and hold in grief so profound I am still afraid to let go.
I felt again for the twelve year who did not understand and the me now cried for her.
I really do hate Facebook.