At first, it seems so easy to get involved without becoming attached... a few bits of personal information here, a photo or two there, and voila! you have created your account. Just like a one-night stand, it is fast, easy, and forgettable.
You think you can keep your distance and not get invested; you are just here to 're-connect' with a few friends from college and do some networking for your home candle-selling business. As you enter your basic information and privacy settings, you realize there is barely a thing you can add to your "info" section without creating an automatic link to your hometown, college, sorority, or other potentially embarrassing information about your past. While this will automatically connect you to people who you most likely couldn't stand when you knew them the first time, you convince yourself these links will miraculously create better social connections and in turn grow your candle business. Never mind that your social life is already overrun by assholes both past and present, and no one wants to buy your stupid candles.
One lonely night, you find your "un-attached" self sending Facebook a booty call. The apartment is quiet and there's nothing on the Food Network besides a crappy re-run of "Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives." As if drawn by a magnetic need to connect to something human, no matter how virtual, you log in to Facebook... "just for a few minutes, to browse around." You are suddenly drawn into a vortex of other peoples' virtual lives which instantaneously makes you realize how much you suck. At everything. How does Facebook manage to make everyone else so incredibly busy and cool? They all have these extravagant and exciting lives, complete with mobile uploads that document just how busy and cool they really are. You are not busy and cool. Suddenly you realize no one on Facebook will ever want to buy your crappy candles.
But you want them to. Suddenly you want them to like you and buy your candles more than you ever really cared to admit before. You become obsessed, knowing that the only way to validate your existence is to gain as many friends as possible. Your affair with Facebook becomes more intense as you hop from friend to friend, praying each one will accept your request. You pull up every bit of personal information possible about people you had already forgotten about and can't believe you've waited this long to reconnect with them, despite the fact that you barely knew them or couldn't stand them in high school. If someone does not accept your Facebook request, you are disturbingly crushed. It is the ultimate rejection, seeming to come directly from the entity of Facebook itself.
By the time you have extracted your crushed soul from the computer, TVLand is deep into re-runs of "Three's Company" and it is way past 3am. You lie in bed, exhausted yet wide awake, wondering when Facebook will call to you again. When will you get the much-awaited Facebook message that a Friend Request has been accepted? Or even better, that a Friend Request has been sent to you?! And when you do receive this message, will you re-enter the dangerous territory that is Facebook, exposing yourself to the potential pleasure and/or heartache that is in store? Deep down, you know you will continue to take the risk, even though 9 out of 10 times you will logout feeling hurt and dejected.
After each affair with Facebook you are not left with bruising or scars visible to the outside world, but there is a deeper wound left behind - a rich distaste for yourself, your life, and everything that makes you..."you." To make matters worse, you have also lost hours of your life stuck in the Facebook Coma. You know it is all a waste of time; you know you will never be as busy or cool as Facebook would like you to be... but somehow, you are back logging in again tomorrow, waiting for the approval that never really comes.
