I’m breaking up with Facebook.

Not really though. We’re just “taking a break.” Kind of like you did when you were dating and you just weren’t sure this was the right guy.

But I’m talking about Facebook not eternal love.

And yes, Facebook, we need a break. I’m just feeling smothered. Between your news feeds, status updates, comments, likes, and neverending tidbits of trivia and information, you’ve got my brain short circuiting.

You know I was an info junkie years before you came along. Your creator was still in diapers when I would fill my tote bag and arms with library books and stumble back to my dorm to read on a Friday night while my roommates were all gone and it was quiet.

But this relationship has taken info to a whole new level, and it’s just too much to handle.

I’ll miss the mornings I rolled over and blearily started my day with you. Ever since I got my iPhone you’ve come to bed with me and been there when I woke up. It was exciting at first, but now . . not so much.

The thing is, Facebook, for all the fun we’ve had, I realize faces don’t belong in a book. {<==click to tweet} Faces belong on bodies. They’re right in front of me, and I’m missing them.

It’s not like I hate you or think you’re inherently evil. 

You have introduced me to some of my favorite people and facilitated relationships that would have died without you. 

I’ve found incredible information, life changing even, as I perused your news feeds. 

You’ve made me laugh and cry. 

I don’t resent you for making everyone else’s life look all sunshine and roses and mine look like crap. I know better than to think that the age old battle with comparison is your fault, Facebook. {<==click to tweet . . oh, please} 

Besides, I am a mature adult, and I know everyone posts the good stuff. Why not? Who has picture albums (remember those) commemorating the worst of life? 

But I’ve also wasted hours, and I don’t have hours to waste. Really, I think you’re great! I just need some space. 

Here’s the good news. We’re not really breaking up. I have a plan, and these are the new rules:

– we won’t visit on the phone. My time with you won’t be half conscious, compulsive checking anymore. I want our relationship to be intentional. So we will only visit when I’m on my computer.

– we’ll be together only between 1 and 2 pm. That’s my personal prime time, so you’re up against a lot of competition. But don’t worry. That means when I intentionally choose you, you’ll have my undivided attention. Quality not quantity.

– no weekends starting Friday at 2. Because when it come to the weekends and family and friends, well you lose. Sorry. It’s not personal.

Facebook, you have a way of magnifying my state of being, for better or worse. You can make me feel depressed just as fast as you bring out my pride. {<==click to tweet}. So I’ll be paying close attention to how I feel when I’m with you. As one-sided as it may sound, if you don’t make me feel better about life, family, and friends . . . well, click.

You’re a really nice guy, Facebook. I just need some space. And I think our relationship (and all my others) will be better for it. 

Fondly (most of the time),
Kim