So, A Writer in the Dark.

In February, a person - They/Them/Theirs - stumbled into my most beloved Facebook group. They entered a small group of just under 350 people dedicated to endlessly pitting one thing against the next. It's a group I've come to love over the last year and a half. It's, for lack of a better term, my cyber-closet, a small place I can go to lose myself in trivialities with imaginary, albeit, familiar friends. Kind of like Narnia. Minus, ya know, all the cool fantasy shit.

Then this intruder appeared. And like all good gatekeepers in fantasy realms, I was naturally hesitant of Them. It isn't often we accept new members, and for good reason. We're an especially tight-knit group (one new member even admitted they thought we all knew each other in real life when they joined). We're extremely self-referential. We're odd, and we're overbearing. When new members join it can very much feel like it's Us versus them. Or in this case, Them.

But, as is usually the case, I was wrong. They were a fantastic fit. Later, I actually commended my dear friend who mods the group for accepting Them, and she was just as surprised as I was that They fit into our quirky clockwork as well as They did. It was actually a joy seeing Their posts, seeing Their name pop up in my notifications. They'd successfully infiltrated our group. They'd become one of Us. And in doing that, I noticed something - I had a crush on Them.

Of course, I've never met Them. But the crush is there, regardless. Facebook is a funny thing, because no matter how close people get (even in these very small groups), everyone is putting on a face. Sometimes it isn't their best face. But it's a face nonetheless. I've been nothing but brutally honest about myself in this group, even revealing things about my life there before I reveal them out in the real world. And yet, people there think the best of me. It's manufactured in a way that even I can't break the portrait of myself. 

Many members of the group believe me to be one thing, when I believe myself to be another. These are folks I've talked to or interacted with in some capacity nearly everyday for a year and a half. They're my friends! I text them all the time. Recently, however, I've found myself questioning whether or not they know me better than I seemingly know myself. I reckon that can't be the case, cause that would be insane. But I would bet they have a better understanding of who I present myself as than I do, despite my best efforts to merge my own self-reflection with my self-portrayal. 

Anyway, back to Them. All of this in mind, it made whatever small crush I had on Them seem ridiculous. I'm not even sure how I present myself online; how the hell am I gonna understand if They're anything like They appear to be? And yet, I crushed harder and harder. Every silly comment They made piqued my interest, every photo They posted of Themselves got a few extra seconds of my time. I began to feel like I really knew Them, and that I really liked Them.

Then two weeks ago the Raptors won the NBA Finals, and the same night, They messaged me. I thought I was dreaming. Usually your crushes go un-reciprocated (especially if you're me), and online crushes - get the fuck outta here. That shit shouldn't even exist! But they do. They thought I was cute, or funny, or "dope as heck," or something, and They reached out. And it really excited me, cause I don't think I'm really cute or "dope as heck." (I do acknowledge I'm funny. *sprinkles some Leo pride in there somewhere*) 

So, for the last two weeks we've been talking just about everyday. They're sweet, and They're funny. They're super fucking dorky, and just as hot, which is a rare but special kind of attractive. They send me pictures of Themselves and Their cat all the time, so I'm basically always grinning. And... They live 3,000 miles away. So, it's really just a harmless crush that can't go anywhere. But that distance made me realize something. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

I know what I'm doing with Them. That's no problem. Apparently I can still flirt just fine (in case, I don't know, you were worried about that?) No, I mean, I don't know what I'm doing on Facebook. I don't know why I'm there. I would never have been aware of Their existence without Facebook, sure; but, are they attracted to me or who I present myself as? (And vice versa.) More importantly, do I want to spend my life trying to reconcile those two things while a trillion dollar corporation mines my data? (I'm getting targeted ads for diapers. What the fuck Zuckerberg. I'm not even having kids. Jesus Christ.) 

I don't know. I don't know how to reconcile those things. But I do know that I can't live up to who people think I am online. Nor do I even want to try. I already have a hard enough time with real life expectations. So, I've deactivated my Facebook. I've shut the door of my cyber-closet. At least for now.

Maybe I'll open the door again someday. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll fly 3,000 miles and meet Them, and none of that will have ever been possible without Facebook in all its glory. Or maybe They'll read this blog and never speak to me again. They'll think I'm just nuts. And if that's the case, then I think I'm okay with that. 

I am nuts, no matter what Facebook says.