On any given night you can find me sitting cross-legged on my tie-dye bedspread, nervously twirling my long brown hair around my right index finger, biting my remaining nails in anticipation and cautiously looking over my shoulder to make sure my roommates aren’t around.
"I can't wait for my shift to be over so I can go home and Google-stalk Bill."
When I’m sure I’m alone, I plop my MacBook onto my lap, sign in to Facebook and Twitter and begin to shamelessly stalk my ex-boyfriend. Don’t judge me.
I’m still completely in love (infatuated?) with him and we live upwards of 700 miles apart. Why? Because of the damn Internet. I couldn’t get rid of him even if I wanted to. And what’s worse is, I know he Internet stalks me, too. He sends me text messages regarding things I post on Twitter.
Tweet: “Hanging out with friends in the Lower East Side. $4 frozen margaritas.”
Text: “$4 margaritas, huh? Having fun in NYC I gather?”
Note: I hadn’t spoken to this boy since I asked him to say “goodbye” to me when I left for the city (he didn’t show up) and I hadn’t seen him since we hung out to “talk” about being friends (we had sex in his car; he had/has a girlfriend).
And Millennials don’t find this weird because…?
Using the Internet to indulge every lovesick whim and chemically imbalanced addiction is like being a sex addict living with a hooker. Or a chocoholic working at Hershey. The Internet leaves your vice free to entice 24/7, 365 as long as you’ve paid your Comcast bill. It’s virtual S&M.
What do you do after you meet or break up with someone? You Google them, of course. That’s just how it is – but all it creates are paranoid and pissed off people. Whenever you post something online, don’t you always wonder who’s going to read it and then get mad when they don’t?
When Heroin Boy texted me about what he saw on my Twitter, I wanted to throw up a little bit. In a way, I was flattered. I felt like I had “won” my fictional war against his new girlfriend. I felt triumphant because I knew he was still Googling me.
But then I felt kind of sick because I realized my feelings of victory were really just technology-channeled ego. I had been waiting for his text message like a Sookie waiting for a Bill to come save her…again…gag me.
Actually, the cast of True Blood is an excellent case study of how technology encourages the darker side of human relationships, particularly if we see the undead vampires as a metaphor for how the Internet creates cyborg people whose skin screams for sunlight and/or a hobby. It really isn’t a far stretch if you consider how vampires, like the Internet, have taken over pop culture and our lives. The Internet leaves us consistently at everyone’s beck and booty call. And the Internet only perpetuates this to the point where it’s evolved into one of these soul-consuming demons in modern society.
The Internet has killed courtship and prolonged break-ups (enter the entire cast of True Blood). We can keep files on people and find out everything anyone could ever want to know about them without ever actually speaking to them. You can move thousands of miles away, but your ex can still follow you around. Story of my life.
This is all potentially harmful behavior. We essentially let ourselves get jerked around by whoever reads our social media posts because we like the attention. We live a half-existence as a night-stalker feeding off the pain of old memories and the little flickers of hope that ‘maybe one day…’ We’re obsessed with the cold and dead. We’re Sookie. Comment debates are a thrill and when we find out an ex reads our Twitter, it’s an aphrodisiac. Mmm, the erotic pain for pleasure. It hurts so good.
Where do you draw the line between social networking connections and emotional abuse? Where do you draw the line between being interested and being a obsessive stalker? Where’s the line between functional couple and co-dependent, narcissistic douchebags?
There isn’t one. Millennials and the Internet have made it disappear because we demanded, “Mr. Zuckerberg, tear down this wall!”
Photo by myspaces
“The Internet leaves us consistently at everyone’s beck and booty call.” LOVE. I completely relate – I’m in a long-distance relationship (thing) – and everyone who replies/becomes a friend with him on FB and the Twitter are potentially the beginning of the “I have something to tell you…” – My mind works this way: A-GIRL-just-”liked”-your-status-what-the-fuck-it’s-over-why-are-you-in-a-picture-with-HER-she’s-prettier-than-me-I-love-you-too-You’re-doing-what-saturday-night-will-there-be-zooey-deschanel-lookalikes-call-me-I’m-hopping-on-a-plane-right-now-oh-nothing-I’m-fine. What a world we live in…
Ha, I DEFINITELY did that a few times when I was in a LDR — ironically, near the end of it (not the end-end, just the end of the long-distance part). The internet is SO dangerous in these circumstances…
Please, please this is more info than I can take! Your “boy” was an #**hole and does not deserve your love or attention. Girl power!!!! Men are not necessary to have a life of your own. YOu are young and free…enjoy!
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[...] Tremblay recently wrote “Love Bytes” for The Next Great Generation (TNGG) blog post. I fell in love with it immediately. It is so [...]
Did you just discover adjectives? Because there are eight in the first sentence alone.
Maybe it’s the guy in me but I never do this. I Google stalk people I’m about to interview with though. But exs? Never. We’re friends still so if I care what they’re doing, I’ll give them a call.
Your adjectives are sexy.
Your ex is a d14kface.
That is all.
Oh Caitlin. Don’t get addicted to the pain and the drama. Pain is not love. And he sounds like a USER.
Here’s my take.
First of all, UNFRIEND HIM. And block him from your Twitter.
NOW. Make room for new people in your life. Buy a new pillow. Get a 2 teacup set. Take all of your pictures of him and delete them. New bedspread, one without the memories. Smudge your room with sage/sweetgrass. Clean out all of that old energy. Let the hippie in you come out and chant Om Mani Padme HUM a few times.
Next, Get on some internet dating site, like okcupid or something.
Then, Go on some dates.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
Every time you feel compelled to google stalk him, go there instead.
Go look at some of the HOT HOT people that live in NYC. Because I assure you, they are right in front of your eyes!
And if you’re scared of being A) Mugged or B) Stood up, meet in a public place you would have been going to anyway, like a nice bookstore with a cafe, or a record store, or teashop. That way, if it goes well, you can move right into talking about books, and if it doesn’t, after 20 minutes you can say, “Well, it was nice to meet you” and go browse for something more fun than your date was.
I perfected this technique over 2007 and 2008 when i went on 1-3 dates a week! It was a big ego boost. I met so many people! I heard some hilarious stories! And it taught me about my bottom line.
Here’s what I’ve learned. This, I will let you have for free. In the first hour, they need to 1. Ask you about yourself, 2. Listen intently, not just wait for their turn to talk, and 3. Ask a good followup question. If they can 4. Make you laugh, they MIGHT get a chance at a second date. And you need to feel some chemistry, too. It will give you fuel for stories, if nothing else!
Remember, just like Lauryn Hill says, “Girlfriend, Don’t think I haven’t been in the same predicament!”
Stick to liking people who like you back,
Mazarine
PS.
Teashops I love in NYC: Cha En in the East Village, Radiance in Midtown, and there’s always Cafe Pick Me Up on Tompkins Sq. Park.
Think you’re both right. It’s a damaging system but it’s a new millennia and . It’s a big wall to tear down but you get points for trying of course. Lots of things our bodies and minds weren’t built for in the world right now (desk jobs, car crashes, cell phones) but we’ll adapt (or we won’t) and life will carry on.
Great article tho and fun fun funny responses. Keep it up.
-Mikey
I totally relate to this article. The internet creates such ridiculous, obsessive relationships with people. We CAN know anything we want to about what people are up to… so at some point it just becomes the norm. I’ve blocked my ex in every way possible, and sometimes I still find myself wishing I could see what he’s up to.
[...] Love Bytes [...]