How many people do we meet in life, hold gazes with, brush past in the street, smile at from afar. How many of those people enter your life? Stay?
Social media makes it so easy to make ‘friends’ these days, that, gone are the days of striking up a friendship in person – that is of course unless you’re a drunk girl in a club toilet telling the complete stranger next to you how much you love her hair. It happens let me tell you! I’ve gained many female friends that way.
On the internet you can be whoever you want to be, pretty sure my old online dating profile said I was a teacher, however I jacked that in when I realised, teaching isn’t helping anyone these days, it’s merely there to make the government happy. However, my twitter, Facebook and instagram are all real, all very me (if you don’t count the filters I use to make myself look remotely attractive that is).
When I was younger it was a massive deal meeting people off the net, stranger danger and all that but today, it feels too easy! To become attatched to effective strangers. For them to become part of your real world, your real life. When you stop tweeting and start texting, stop texting and start calling, stop calling and start meeting, where do you draw the line between what’s real and what’s fake. When they become part of your life so much so that you forget you met them online and sometimes indeed, you wish you could just go back to knowing the internet version of them.
I’ve met maybe a handful of people from the Internet, some I’ve known since I was a teen and some just a few years. Each special in their own way, each a crazy part of my life, each bringing something new to the table.
What I hate about this though is the idyllic person from social media is always destroyed as soon as you meet, trust me I speak from experience. Take for instance the girls with the filters (guilty, call Oprah), the person you spoke to for several months to only find out that he had a lovely girlfriend of 12 years or the one who admired from afar for near on half a decade who you didn’t even know had a wife. Point proven, you can be who you want to be and say what you want to say. How does a screen make life so bulletproof? Note to self, change dating profile to say ‘I’m an astronaut’.
One person I met, a fair while ago now, cropped back up on one of my social media accounts a fair bit ago now and I laugh when I think of how stupid, naive, crazy I was to think everything was genuine when I look back at us. If I could tell then me ‘girl you ain’t the only one’ I would, but would I listen? Would I fuck. I’d still go in all guns blazing, cards on the table, exposing myself (mind out of the gutter) to be hurt! Hurt, off someone who, not long ago, wasn’t even real. Just words on a screen. Just words. Nothing else. No meaning to me, to my life. Nothing at all. Who I didn’t care about enough to ask how they were day to day fuck, sometimes I evenforgot they existed but now, hour to hour feels a lifetime.
It’s funny how when they become your real friends, you distinctly notice the lack of contact from day one to day dot, how you read and reread messages and the time difference between replies from then until now. No? Just me that’s a crazy motherfucker then? How you analyse everything, worry about everything. What did I say wrong? What did I do? What can I do better? Then when you realise, you’re not even important in the grand scheme of things you just promise yourself to never let fake people in again. It becomes reality – quickly and harshly – that things changed because you moved down the ladder and someone else replaced you, replaced the ‘new friend excitement’. Is that a thing? It’s definitely a thing. I coined it! What’s even funnier is it doesn’t even matter because your friendship is based on waves that don’t exist and words on a screen.
It kind of sickens me how much the internet can change your life, how the people from there can effect you. Yet, in the same stance, that guy with the Mrs of 12 years? He’s now someone I speak to day in, day out and I forget completely that we started talking via a retweet.
What the internet will never do though is give you the real and raw person that becomes your friend, these people will lie, they will hide things and they will think you have no idea about any of this but humanity prevails over the internet (sometimes, ha) and humans can thankfully tell when this is happening. Well I’d hope so anyway! After all, they are being ideal and not real, it’s a big wonderful web out there and you have to protect yourself from the fakes. Funny thing is, a year from each of these moments, even if you still hold a memory, like the way they like books or art, the way they look at you in their presence or even the things they hold passion for, you won’t even care anymore because life will have thrown you another curveball and you’ll be busy in a club toilet making real friends with gorgeous hair.
This is how the story went,
I met someone by accident
He blew me away, blew me away.
It was in the darkest of my days
When he took my sorrow and he took my pain
And buried them away, he just buried them away.
I wish I could lay down beside you when the day is done
And wake up to your face against the morning sun
But like everything I’ve ever known you’ll disappear someday
So I spend my whole life hiding my heart away.
She doesn’t live that far away
Just a virgin pendolino
And she’s asking me to dance
Rest on me now