Wounds that never heal

Social networking websites are a terrible invention for people who cannot allow the scars of failed relationships or unrequited loves to heal smoothly, leaving a flawless emotional complexion. My emotional healing response is much like my physical response.

Whenever my body attempts to slowly add layers of scar tissue to the injured area, my fingers automatically scratch away at the crust until the original wound re-emerges, often with an angry red perimiter.

My emotional response is not to live my life in ignorance of the exploits and developments in the social lives of past loves or desires. NO, I must google, facebook, twitter or LastFM them. I must see the life that they have chosen to lead instead of the one that I had imagined and longed for. Perhaps I am looking for some kind of answer to what it is that I am lacking. As with physical scars, I derive an odd and disturbing pleasure from the pain and disfigurement. Facebooking that bartender at my favourite Irish pub, or the girl I stole a kiss from on a road trip to Melbourne is reminiscent of squeezing a pustular pimple on my forehead.

The infectious thoughts of regret will fill again tomorrow, requiring another online investigation into the many and varied ways in which THEY have moved on, or often how they have continued to live, in complete ignorance as to how I felt about them.