Does this ever happen to anyone else? And does anyone else just hate Facebook because of it? There are people–none of whom would ever read this blog, I imagine, who are relics of my past. A past in which I did embarrassing things or behaved in a way that I’d just as soon forget about.
And they’re on Facebook and I see them from time to time because they’re friends of friends. And I just wish I could go back to pretending that they didn’t exist or existed on a planet separate from mine. Because they are like these mirrors reflecting my worst self.