We meet again. Why is it always you? Why is it that whenever there's a social media problem, you're at the root of it?
I have a request. This isn't like that time I complained about your new format. (ALL THOSE TIMES.) This is a legit concern. And I think I speak for a lot of us with this one.
Our exes are on facebook. It's unavoidable. (Actually, a lot of my exes gave up facebook--my internet presence is so powerful, it would seem, that they gave it up altogether. Yes, you may bow and kiss my ring.) But COLLECTIVELY, our exes are on facebook. And sometimes we like to check up on them. Even if they unfriended us. On our birthday. (...hypothetically.)
Sometimes you just have to know. So you hop on over to their page and click around. Hm, new girlfriend? I guess she's cute, if you like that conventional girl next door type. You changed your hair. It's long, like I always hated. Still posting gratuitous pictures of cars you'll never own, I see. Your dog is still adorable. Can I have--nope, that's weird.
We can't help it. Clicking on that profile, that portal to their world...we just want to creep around like the ghost of relationships past. Just to see if they rearranged any furniture, so to speak. Most of us are guilty of this in some way or another.
But it's dangerous, you see. The longer you click around over there, the more you're tempting fate. If you go through a dozen profile pictures, two new albums, and the last two months of timeline...you're going to click like. And you are going to regret it. You stare at the screen for a second in disbelief. You hover over "unlike" trying to debate the merits of undoing your mistake. Did the notification already go through? Have I caught it in time? Is there a facebook equivalent of the 5 second rule? If I unlike it, won't that show that I didn't mean to do it, and therefore catch me in my own web of stalking? Should I own it? Yes, I liked your status update! Thumbs up!
Those 15 seconds of turmoil are enough to make you swear off this habit, like a college student nursing a hangover.
So, facebook, isn't it time you helped us out? I'm not asking for much--just a little seatbelt for my tours through my romantic past. A way to help me keep my hands and arms inside the tram. Like a creeper setting. Just browsing--disable anything but browsing. Or a little confirmation message. "You've listed this person as your ex. Are you sure you want to like their cover photo?" Think about it.
Hook us up. We're begging you. Your move, facebook.