I've never been good at keeping people in my life. In a journal I wrote a few years ago, I said I hated being in the Momence/Bourbonnais/Kankakee area because "it's full of ghosts." Some of the people are still there, but most are gone, and there are all of the places and all of the memories.
I'm no longer so terribly averse to going back there to visit, but I'd never want to live there again. I'd live anywhere else first. I would never want to move back to any of the towns where I've lived previously. If I got a job in Plainfield, I'd deal with an hour commute not to live there.
But there's one place where you can never get away from the reminders of how things have changed and that's Facebook.
A few years ago one of my friends shut down his Facebook account. I remember his last post before he deactivated his account was how he felt so free, and it was like graduating high school all over again. I didn't understand it back then. I didn't see how it was such a big deal. Maybe I do now, because I'm about to cancel my internet (by October 1, if I can get in touch with AT&T) and I feel free. Granted it's more than just freedom from Facebook, it's freedom from all my internet vices. I decided to cancel when my one-year promotional price ended, meaning the cost doubles, but I'm realizing that even aside of financially this will probably change my life for the better. There will be no more wasted evenings (I don't have TV either), no more hours on end spent reading comedy sites, and I can put some distance between myself and the ghosts.
What am I going to do with that time now? I don't know. But it'll have to be different from what I've done before. Maybe the simple act of cutting off internet will finally prompt me to make positive changes in myself that have been needed for years. If you make changes you can control, maybe the things in your life that have changed beyond your control won't hurt so much anymore.
"The world changes. We do not. Therein lies the irony that finally kills us." -Antonio Bandares, Interview with the Vampire

You watch the actions, you hear the words, and you wonder who this person is because she disgusts you. You can't reconcile your feelings with the fact that she is yourself, and somehow you have something to do with this unredeemable blob spewing her constant streams of stupidity. It would be better if she were always alone, when she's alone she's paralyzed, and just sinks into her couch, every minute getting closer and closer to becoming nothing. You feel like she might want to change, but that emotion can't possibly run very deep. It's just something that flickers across the surface. Because beneath, it's just empty.