It isn’t you. It’s me.
Okay, maybe it’s both of us.
I joined six years ago, give or take a few months, because of a friend’s persistence in getting me to join during my time with Habitat. Since then, I broadcast my life, from leaving Baltimore, to this winter of my discontent in Chicago (with a hard time in California and three years in Fargo in between). We started off well, but things changed. You became a huge glorified yearbook with advertising and politics mixed in, and I became disillusioned, but like a relationship that lasted past its necessary end (something I know a lot about), I stayed.
I joined the ranks of Twitter, and Instagram, and found my people. People who had new things to say, and give, and offer, and show, without expecting much. I’ve made real, honest friends on other platforms. And while, at time of writing this, I have 635 Facebook friends, including family, I really only talk to a couple dozen of them, and I can get a hold of them elsewhere anyway.
I’ve realized how little time I actually spend with you anymore. It’s less than half-an-hour a day, and most of it is reading other people’s posts. I only post a few things now and then, and I’m more tame and low-key than I was once upon an election. You remember those days, don’t you? Of course you do.
So, It’s time for me to say goodbye. I know, you’ll say you’re sorry to see me go and some people will say I’ll be back because like a bad reality TV show, you’re an addiction of sorts. Not likely. Leaving you will give me more time to do what I need to do for myself. You bear too many memories I don’t want anymore, and it’s for the best that we go our separate ways.