Earlier this week I had some wine (OK I got drunk) quite late into the night and decided to unfriend my mother-in-law, my father-in-law, and my sister-in-law on Facebook.
Scandalous, I know.
I left my brother-in-law in the circle of trust. Why? He’s okay.
For the record, I unfriended Peter, king of dickheads, months ago.
When I woke up the next morning, I groggily thought to myself, “Fuck. Kattttttttttttie. What did you do?”
And then, as so rarely happens when one is waking up from the drunk fog, I thought, “Katie. You know what you were doing? You were severing ties with people who, by their very digital existence, remind you of the pain of your failed marriage. And perhaps that severing is actually a good thing. Perhaps it is a healthy thing.” I’d like to high-five myself for stumbling luckily onto something healthy while under the influence of alcohol, because seriously, that never happens. And that is a lot of drunk experience and reflection talking right there.
So yeah. I’m going with that. The healthy bit. And this is why: until I unfriend them, I know that everything I post on Facebook will be something that they can potentially “like,” which I know my mother-in-law will, and with that “like,” it will show up on Peter’s timeline. And if it has the potential to show up on Peter’s timeline, I will use it, likely in vain, as a tool to try to show Peter, indirectly, that I am living a fucking fantastic life that he will be jealous he left behind for his mistress. (Even though I’m not actually leading a fucking fantastic life at the moment.)
And that? That is something I don’t need to waste my time doing, constructing some bullshit life in the hope of punishing Peter.
(Also, I will pause here to add what a sad commentary this is on our culture, but whatever.)
So goodbye, my former family. It was nice while it lasted. I will miss you, but as they say, everything is temporary.
(I’m beginning to fear that will be the phrase etched on my tombstone. Here lies Katie. Everything was temporary. Pass the wine. The end.)
And on that note, pass the wine. The end.