Dear Old Friend

Dear Old Friend,

As bizarre as it sounds, Facebook, merely a popular “social network,” has added a dimension to my life.  It’s hard to admit, as I mostly enjoy disliking anything that is too popular, like the Kardashians.  (But don’t you mess with my Dr. Phil.) Nevertheless, even in a life filled with wonderful family, good friends, and a great job, it’s warming to find a quick hello or a like to a post.  It can make the, still, sometimes lonely world a bit less so.

It was with, then, excited intentions that I contacted you, in hopes that I could add you to the list of people who throw out cyber hugs to me and to whom I reciprocate with such hugs.  So, I did.  I contacted you. 

I have memories of you.  Mostly of laughter.  Just so you know, as I now feel compelled to tell you, many people didn’t like you.  They called you a Snob and Shallow, but I didn’t find you as such.  I liked you. 

You and I and Others spent summers together in Wisconsin.  I loved these summers and I loved the people there, including you, and these summers were so wonderful and free and lovely. 

I told Another Old Friend, that I had found you on facebook and had she talked to you in recent years?  This Other Old Friend and I both contacted you at the same time.  I am quite certain that I know why you accepted her friend request and not mine.

The pictures of me and my Alternative Family Freaked You Out.  Yes, even in these days of Ellen Degenerous, Rosie O’Donnell, and Chastity Bono, you still find my “lifestyle” Vile and Disgusting.  Some may argue, “No, that’s not why she rejected you--.”  But we both know the truth, don’t we.

The world is changing and I am changing and People like You don’t have the Power to make me feel Vile and Disgusting anymore.  So don’t worry about having hurt my self-esteem.  I’m sure you’ve lost many nights’ sleep worrying about this too, but I’m officially informing you now that you can get Over It.

I want to be bigger than you and wish you a good life.  I want to say your rejection didn’t hurt.  The truth is, while I don’t wish you any harm, I also don’t necessarily wish you a good life.  This is because it did hurt.  While I’m just as valuable a human being as my straight peers, your rejection of me, due to something I can’t control, did hurt. 

Perhaps I should just cast it off as the Others were right: you are Snobby and Shallow.  I think, though, that this makes you get off too easy.  I still think these old friends were wrong: you weren’t Snobby and Shallow and this is precisely why your rejection stings.  Instead you perhaps were (and are) merely Mean Spirited and, for lack of something more creative to call you, a Bigot. 

And so, it is with Disappointment in Myself that I am Not Martin Luther King, Jr. or Mahatma Ghandi (sp?), who would instead Pray for your Fortitude (don’t know what that means, but it sounds right) that I feel compelled to forever leave you with two little words that I find necessary to utilize in times like these.

Fuck off.

Signed,

What?  Did you think I was in Love with You?  PLEASE!