My letter to FaceBook

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Dear F.B.

If I tell you, will you quit asking? My status is eager. You know what is even more weird?

Your obsession with me.

Your emails after the first breakup were…excessive and pushy. The only reason I’m here is because you are holding my friends and family captive.

Look, the reason I avoided you in the first place, was because you were so clingy and needy. You wanted to know everything about me: where I grew up, what music I like, etc. Then you want to follow me everywhere, and you even sent “friends” to track me.

You want me to tell you my whole life story and give you every possible way to contact me.

It’s just plain weird. You need help.

That said, I have to be here on FaceBook for a while, so I hope we can be friends.

Sincerely, Becky
dyingwithstyle.org

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4 thoughts on “My letter to FaceBook

  1. A sister’s response to “Broken”:

    A broken toy does not describe my sister.
    She is a strong and fearless one.
    Always thoughtful of others and patient.
    Calm, silly, beautiful, fun.

    As girls while I was sleeping in,
    I’d wake to find her gone.
    She would be in the garden with our mother.
    Rising early to help before dawn.

    Kittens all around us in the country,
    When a new litter arrived which one would she pick?
    While I was choosing the cutest or strongest,
    The runt or deformed she would choose just as quick.

    Running, singing and dancing were our pastimes.
    We were also known to write a jingle or play.
    Climbing up in the barn, walking to the windmill,
    Rising early to catch the sunrise, burying ourselves in hay.

    She was my counselor, friend and accomplice.
    When I learned to drive where would we not go?
    Adventures were just around the corner,
    Always on the move, through hail, rain or snow.

    Did you know she was an actress?
    She walked the catwalk in her day.
    She went to college, hiked trails, climbed walls,
    Rode horses, played sports, what more can I say?

    You see, my sister was not always a cripple
    But I do not choose that word.
    MS has weakened her body,
    Her thoughts of herself may be blurred.

    But I know the heart of my sister.
    And I know the pain she bears.
    She is not broken, unlovely or cursed,
    Suffering scars, weakness, immobility and tears.

    There were no mistakes made I know this to be true.
    She is a mother, daughter, sister, friend,
    She may fight each day to simply remain
    But she knows the truth in the end.

    The “unbroken” toys are not always as loved
    And she knows that her pain will not last,
    Miracles happen every day
    Second chances have not passed.

    She will get through this and though life is a test,
    One thing is for certain: God always knows BEST!

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