I’m not alone in being troubled by how people suddenly disappear in life, right?
Once there was this guy…
It’s a story of love and loss, longing and sadness, breaking up and getting back together. No one cares about the details but me (and perhaps a producer from Lifetime).
That was all a long time ago, back when I didn’t look for bras specifically advertising their ability to lift and shape. While Mr. and I are not together now, he was an enormous part of my life for a very long time. (You don’t even want to know how long. Really, it’s ridiculous.)
And then he wasn’t.
I’m not alone in being troubled by how people suddenly disappear in life, right? That’s essentially why the internet was created. You may have heard rumors about Al Gore inventing it for military purposes…
Lies! The internet was invented for snooping.
(Disclaimer: I’m not talking about stalking, of course. I just mean a little checking up every once in awhile. Perfectly normal curiosity about the varied paths available to each of us.)
But Mr.? He’s a ghost. No internet presence at all — save an address. No Facebook, no newspaper mention. No picture on a blog or LinkedIn. It’s like he’s an old man who has never connected to the World Wide Web.
I just want to know how he’s doing, maybe see a picture of the wife and kids, see how much hair he has, that sort of thing. Because I want to know — I need an updated mental picture.
I genuinely hope that Mr. is happy and living a magical life. Without me, yes — but that’s neither here nor there. It was for the best that we didn’t end up together. Really. I knew it even then.
But seriously, how do you have no search engine results? Isn’t that creepy? I think it’s weird. Granted, I have more web presence than most, since I’ve been writing forever. Plus the odd Rate My Professor ratings. And my rants at city council meetings. And book reviews. And stuff I probably don’t even know about.
Back in the olden days (1990!), you had to just call people on the actual real telephone, and sometimes it would be busy. That is not my world.
For good or ill, questions have immediate answers most of the time in 2016. Capital cities, the average lifespan of pygmy goats, the name of that guy who walked through the background of that one movie? All discoverable.
But not my ex. Without effort, his life is a mystery. I could show up at his door, I suppose, but that’s not cool (listen to me, not cool, even if you are tempted).
I’m not asking for much — no need to start a blog or get arrested. But if Mr. could tweet or save a cat from a burning fire, I’d really appreciate it.
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