It started innocently enough - Keith imported one of his contact lists into Facebook and got a bunch of new friends. ‘Oh, look who just friended me back,’ Keith said to me, innocently enough.

Him? No way, not him. You’ve got to be kidding. Scramble scramble scramble to block him from seeing my profile, only to find - to my relief and delight - that he had already blocked me. I still don’t understand everything that happened during the last implosion we had, not in the least, in fact, I’m not sure I understand anything at all about it, but I do know that a proactive arm’s length still feels necessary.

It’s dumb of me, really, trying to block my profile - like my information isn’t already spread all over the internet like crunchy peanut butter. I’m on page one for the term ‘mitten‘ these days; it’s not hard to figure out what I’m up to, sometimes down to the minute, and you don’t even have to look hard.

He and I, we had our good moments, in softer times, before the spikiness, before the pointless arguments, and it’s those good moments I like to remember. It’s tempting to wonder if there might ever be a way to have good moments again, but I suspect that it’s more likely that the future holds blockades, not bridges.