1) Get on an elevator with your still-not-ex-husband, the father of your children.
2) Watch as a mutual friend also boards the elevator.
3) Take turns with your ex, speaking to the mutual friend. Look pretty, creative, handsome, interesting. Say witty things. Do not make eye contact with your ex. He won’t make eye contact with you, either. Try not to be hurt. This, apparently, is life.
4) Listen as the mutual friend answers first your ex, and then you. Do not think, This energy could be channeled into figuring out WTF went wrong and sifting through the wreckage for survivors. Apparently, life is harsher than you realized. C’est la vie.
5) They are talking about fruit cups. And whipped cream. Get off the elevator. Turn right.
6) There is a large sign at the end of the hall. It says: PEOPLE YOU MAY KNOW. Below the header there is a large portrait of your ex-husband who is still not your ex-husband. He looks like the person he once told you he thought he would have become, if he hadn’t met you. Except he did meet you. And now he’s unmet you.
7) Take a deep breath. Yell to no one in particular, YES, THANK YOU, I DO BELIEVE I’VE MADE HIS ACQUAINTANCE, AND OH BY THE WAY HIS SPERM HAVE ALSO MET MY EGGS AND THEY ENJOYED THOSE POTLUCKS IMMENSELY AND THERE WERE LEFTOVERS.
Head down another hall, pulling your hair out. Ask the kid who kissed you in eighth grade to play Scrabble.
9) He ignores you, so throw a sheep at your kind Women’s Studies professor.
10) Turns out she’s up for Scrabble, and so is the sheep.
*****
Look, I like Facebook. I really do. I think it’s the playwright and voyeur in me. So much listening and watching. Old friendships renewed, new ones cemented in peculiar games and exchanges. I don’t mind it. I teased. I made fun. But I’ve seen much good come out of Facebook.
I just wasn’t ready for this, the tough stuff.
I live in a small town. And suddenly, Facebook is as small as that town, as the supermarket where I hope not to see people, because, yes, I still cry.
It’s nuts. Every time I log in, Facebook suggests my ex as a potential ‘friend.’ My throat clenches. I gnaw my lip. I look at the ceiling. I am fighting reality, but who doesn’t?
Then there’s all the mutual friends on Facebook, having a ball chatting with the ex-husband I still love who doesn’t love me back. Well, Jesus Zippy Christ. What kind of effed up world is this?
We kiss the same sweet cheeks and brush the same tangled hair, every other week. We pack the same lunches, do the same homework assignments. Effed up life.
This is a BULLSHIT world, when it comes to love. No, this is not a manic episode. This is just a night where the BULLSHIT of the world shot into my room and into my heart all over again, via Facebook.
Here’s what I wish for on Facebook: VILLAGE ELDERS. Wise people from our community to shake sense into us. To say and do online what they are too afraid to do in person:
David has just been bitch-slapped by Rabbi Jeff.
Jenn has just been bitch-slapped by Rabbi Rachel.
Joe has just written on David’s wall: “Dude, I love you like a brother and always will. You both made mistakes. She got really sick and she’s taking responsibility for it. Don’t forget she’s a good woman, a great mother. Call me and we can talk about BPD.”
Lisa has just written David a message: “There’s a way. Seriously, write me. And I make great chocolate mice.”
Mike has just written on Jenn’s wall: “Hey. It’s been too long. You were always a great sister-in-law. I know where D’s coming from, but where are you coming from? Let’s talk.”
Katie has just thrown a Vancouver ferry at David. “What if you all moved West???”
Steve K has just thrown a Large Metal Sculpture and a Marionette Made of Cotton Balls at Jenn.
Jenn posted a note called “THREE OF THE BEST SMALL MOMENTS WITH D”:
1) Brushing teeth in the morning outside the VW bus
2) Laughing over grading theatre papers and the ‘AIIIIIIIII’ of the Greek Chorus
3) Bathing the dogs in grapefruit juice and tomato juice at 1 am after a winter skunk attack
MIL threw a Menorah at Jenn’s head and posted a message on Jenn’s Wall: “DIL, I don’t understand, but I want to. Of course I’m protective, but I know you love each other and you were a great DIL once…so, okay, we’ll keep sending you the Oprah Magazine.”
SC commented on Jenn’s picture of a broken heart: “I thought you said you were over this???? WTF???”
Jenn SuperPoked all of her friends who think she should be over this.
*****
Where are the Village Elders? Greek Choruses? To teach us—on Facebook and in person—about grief and mistakes and grace and forgiveness and blessings and listening to what is real? To what is true? To what is authentic? Who is brave enough to go there?
Here, catch a sheep.
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