Past in the Time of Facebook

Has it ever happened to you that as you tranquilly get on Facebook, maybe with your morning tea, not yet properly awake, and suddenly see, on the top corner of the page where Facebook takes it upon itself to suggest new friends, the name and picture of an ex-boyfriend, a friend with whom you fell out long ago even if you don’t remember why, a cousin you have not seen since you were a child? The ex laughs for the camera, the former friend has gotten a bit older, perhaps has changed haircut, and the cousin might as well be a stranger except that in the bottom of your heart you know that you unescapably resemble each other.

Here they are, faces of the past, coming to haunt us.

Our heart hammers unpleasantly. We cannot take our eyes off of the picture and the name that once meant so much to us and now only petrifies us. The look in the eyes of that ex-boyfriend or friend that we knew so well and yet have wished to forget, perhaps even at a certain point in our lives struggled, suffered to forget, suddenly there, on the top corner of the page, riveted on us.  Then there is that perfectly amiable statement telling us to “add as friend” someone we never wanted to be left in the quandary of befriending or not to begin with. Hence, here we are face to face with our past in the discreetly demanding world of Facebook and we do not know what to do with it.

Next  memories, some beautiful, mostly painful (otherwise we would still be with that boyfriend or friend) begin popping up in our head like mushrooms. But I did not want to wake up this morning and start thinking about my past! We would like to shout. But to no avail. The past has been forced upon us, its claws gripping our shoulders, making us turn to the screen no matter how much we try to squirm out of its grasp.

And the question is still pending, hanging in the air like winter fog: do we want to add this person, this phantom of the past, as our friend? Or even worse, do we want to accept the call for friendship, the “unclenched fist” that this person, who has obviously seen our name and picture on the top corner of his/her page earlier than us, is offering us? Do we want to take a step to rekindle contact, to leave our past and all the entailed grudge, anger, remorse, regret, hostility, and the unresolved behind us, and say yes, let’s be friends? Because the matter could easily be settled with a click. One can even take her time, reflect on her decision, pedantically weigh all the details, and then make the click. There is no awkwardness, no running into each other on a rainy night when one least expected it and thus had her guards down, no should we hug or merely shake hands, no “so what have you been up to” when in reality we only want to leave everything and run!

Instead, on the neutral Facebook ground with photos and notes and news feeds, whose main purpose is to prevent concentration and over-involvement with anyone and anything, one can just make that magical click, pretending to herself that it was just another click in the series of unending clicks of the day. Another click to let someone into our life, another click to connect, another click to expand our social network. And if it’s a shadow of the past, a thorn in the heart, so what? We’re here to connect. We’re here to go beyond emotions and make friends.

And my thoughts go to Tolstoy and that masterpiece of literature and soap-opera Anna Karenina and the scene when Kitty runs into the former love of her life Vronsky, who broke her heart by becoming Anna Karenina’s lover. Kitty first blushes, does not what to do or to say. But she immediately finds her bearings, keeps her head up, does not stammer but speaks in a calm clear voice, and leaves Vronsky as composed and dignified as we could like her to be and we would like ourselves to be when in the same circumstances. We feel so proud of Kitty in this scene! We would like to embrace her and say, Good job Kitty! You came out of it triumphant!

But in the time of Facebook, we don’t have to go through what Kitty goes through. We can just sit behind our computer, our faces permanently concealed behind our profile pictures and status, without worrying about our ex seeing if we blush, hearing if our voice at first trembles, seeing the tension in our eyes, and of course without our being able to see if he blushes or trembles or if the pupils of his eyes flutter nervously (we are denied that pleasure), and decide if this is the “beginning of a new friendship.” We can just sit behind our computer and click.