Dear Facebook,
I think our relationship needs some editing. My friends warned me about spending too much time with you, and it seems they were right.
We used to keep in contact on a normal, healthy basis. I would check in with you about once a day, roughly as often as I checked in with my mother.
But now, you won't leave me alone.
Here's an update: You're unavoidable, addicting and overwhelming.
I appreciate that you remind me about friends' birthdays and keep me informed on current campus happenings.
But every time I come home, you bombard me with requests as if I have all the time in the world to attend to every one of your needs. Is that poke really important enough to be immediately taken care of?
You're virtually smothering me.
If I could create a bumper sticker about you, it would say, "If you come any closer, I'll graffiti a booger on your homepage." You already know my favorite quotes, movies and bands. Now you're also wondering what my Kama Sutra position is, when I will get married and what kind of criminal I would be.
Clearly, if you were a criminal, you would be a stalker.
And you must stop giving me things.
I don't need another roll of toilet paper, a gingerbread voodoo doll or a love duckie. I don't need you to dedicate that song to me. It's not sweet. Actually, it's kinda creepy. I don't need a wall, a super wall, a graffiti wall and a sign language wall. I don't need you to grant my other friends the ability to rate me or, especially, to sell me.
In fact, I think that's a little inhumane.
More disturbing, however, is that you've managed to turn me into somewhat of a stalker.
I didn't used to spend an hour looking at 80 pictures of a person I met two summers ago. I didn't used to watch 10-minute videos of a friend of a friend last time he was intoxicated. I didn't used to wonder how my acquaintances would best sum up their current state of being in one sentence.
We are definitely spending too much time together. I've been telling you all of my secrets. And for what, so you can share them with hundreds of other 20-somethings across the country?
Maybe we should just cool things down a bit. Our relationship obviously progressed too quickly. I'm not saying I don't want you in my life. I'm just saying I need time for a life, and it's hard when you're constantly nagging and desiring attention.
Let me be. Let me see who I am beyond what fits in my "about me" section.
Don't worry. I will still look to you for news about my friends and reminders about upcoming events. And I promise I will still post notes and messages about important things going on in my world.
I wish I could have told you all of this in person. However, you have made it unnecessary to maintain any kind of traditional social contact. With you in my life, I don't feel the need to use a telephone, and I no longer see the advantage of face-to-face confrontation.
And I'm sorry I had to tell you right before Valentine's Day, but I didn't want your love duckie anyway.
It's Complicated,
Carly
P.S. We're not over. I just need my space. No, not MySpace. It's not like that. I'm not cheating on you.
Carly Hallam is an advertising senior. Her column appears on Fridays.
