It’s such a small world in so many ways.
My girlfriend’s sister lived on the same street as my aunt. Now her kids go to the same school as my godson. One of my godson’s best friends is my other girlfriend’s son.
I sang karaoke with a dude who went to high school with my friend…and was married to a girl who’s best friend married another one of my friends.
I run into people I haven’t seen since high school or college on the train or at a restaurant.
We’re only as far away from one another as we are distanced by Facebook friends. Which often isn’t very far.
We find out where someone went to school, grew up, lives, works. Our first question is often, “Do you know ________?”
And then there’s you. Impossible. Unreachable. You.
With the hundreds of connections I have on Facebook. The social media sites I’m active on, galore. The fact that you live no more than 20 miles from me (and that’s generous). But you’re invisible.
I realize I’m of another generation. But not by much. Most people of your world must have flocked to Facebook.
I say that, assuming you have people. Do you? Have people, I mean? Of course, I know you’re married. And I know you have a child (I think two). The internet is a beautiful thing. But do you have people? Friends? Family? Co-workers? People who beg you to be more active on Facebook?
Are you happy?
Have you made a life that makes up for what’s missing? For what you left behind?
Did you forget about us? Me? Your little sister who went and grew up without you. Who never forgot you. Who thinks about you more that she probably should. Who remembers every joke. Every story. Every song. With every fiber of my being.
Does it matter?