Have you ever been blocked on Facebook, because I have. I can vouch from personal experience that it hurts and only causes an onslaught of disappointment, but that’s only the cover story. If I am being honest, I’m almost a junior in high school, but my saga truly began in the jungle of transition we call middle school. Of course, I would be in denial if I didn’t add that a boy was involved. His name is Louis, outgoing jock with jet-black hair, and warm, brown embers for eyes, which delicately crinkle when he smiles. The be all and end all of smiles, which would make any girl want to melt into a puddle.

As for where I range in personalities, I am the shy, introspective one. Yes, the girl who sits in the corner of the room, with a dreamy-eyed expression dancing in her eyes. Given my introspective nature, Louis stood out as having more substance than most. I caught him in these moments where he was different, almost vulnerable. It may have just been my imagination running away from me, but I had this feeling that he liked me, too.

The sad part is that I never let myself find out, because of the fear of rejection. It was a common fear among schoolyards, defined in a nutshell, as worrying about being laughed out of town, if you let on, in the slightest, that you have a crush on someone. Nobody is that different, which makes this fear so irrational yet unavoidable.

I am no rookie to the social stigma that exists in this world. The social hierarchy operates so superficially, which makes it that more difficult for two people, from separate universes, to be together. We have different pressures, but arguably the same, as well. We both care about achieving goals, but those goals are varying.

Needless to say, I let summers and summers pass me by, because I didn’t know what I wanted. As a result, I made excuses, and it was those excuses that held me back. Life tended to be like that, I could talk about it all I wanted, but doing it was another muscle, entirely. When I was in Paris, something changed my perspective.
It had to do with being in a new, faraway country, which became my fuel, my empowerment. I felt more comfortable and confident in an environment that allowed me to be anything I wanted to be. More free to express myself and let go of all past scrutiny. That paired with moving to Arizona screamed “dream team” to me, so I let go of all my inhibitions and went for it.
Heart pounding and iPhone in hand, I drafted message after message until I finally found what I wanted to say. I settled on telling him I was moving and had something I wanted to tell him, but that it would be better to say in person. Also adding that I would be fine if he didn’t want to, and that it may seem weird, because I had never really talked to him before, but that I was shy and I hoped he would consider it.

I waited a long moment with my finger lingering on “send” and then finally clicked all of what it promised. In a panic, soon after, I shut Facebook and sprinted to another room. Little by little, I composed myself and opened Facebook again, before going to sleep. I saw he had seen it, which caused another full on loss of composure.

My restless mind made it into a restless night, complete with tossing and turning and overanalyzing. What was he thinking about when he read it? What would he do? These types of questions swirled around, until it felt too surreal to think about anymore.

As soon as sunlight gave me the go to get up, I checked Facebook and Louis no longer existed. At least to me, because I was officially blocked. The worst part of it was that I couldn’t talk to anyone, because nobody would be up for a good few hours. This was due to the annoyingly long 8-hour time difference between Jackson and Paris. Now, not only was I officially blocked, but also officially stranded with no other opinions. As well as disappointed, hurt, and angry by how harsh a block was. In Facebook language, that was the lowest you could stoop. He owed it to me to respond, right?

***

After countless conversations with friends and family, I began to rethink a lot. By all of their standards, what he did was a jerk move. Other of their consolations included: telling me that maybe I had frozen him in a time capsule, that I could do way better than him, and to move on and put him out of my mind.

That was all fine and dandy, but I had more trouble trying to accept it. He was the only one I knew I could get the real answer from, but then again that would take away all the imagination.
What I know for sure is that he is not a mean person he only acted meanly. There were much more sensitive ways out there of responding. Something. Anything was better than a block. He could have told me: “Thanks, anyway, but I’m hopelessly in love with my girlfriend,” or “I am so flattered, but I don’t feel the same way,” or the best case scenario of: “I like you, too.”

There will always be a part of me that would defend him, but another part could not condone a block. Although I’ve been advised time and time again to shut down my mind the way he shut me down, it will be a process. I gave away four years of my life to him, and I am not getting them back that easily.

As I’m about to get completely swallowed by my thoughts, thankfully the doorbell rings. Saved by the doorbell. It must be Ally, because I invited her over to hang out before she leaves tomorrow for Sun Valley. I would be gone by the time she gets back, so this would be the last time I see her.

“Hey, Ally!”

“Hey, Sophie,” she says, brushing back her chestnut brown hair, while her crystal blue eyes sparkle.

“So, what do you wanna do?”

“I don’t know, what do you wanna do,” I unhelpfully supply.

“We could hang out upstairs.”

“Ok, let’s do that!”

“I just can’t get over that I was blocked. It just seems so unfair, you know? I googled it and someone on Yahoo said that a person who did that considered you lower than all of the strangers on Facebook.”

“I think that that is reading into things too much. I don’t really think he thought much about it. It wasn’t because of your posts or anything, it was probably because he didn’t want any more messages from you.”

“Yeah you’re probably right. Maybe his friend got on his Facebook and blocked me,” I giggle.

“Yeah, maybe it was his friend with that ballerina walk! Why did you do it anyway? You’re in Paris on this once in a lifetime trip and you decide to send a message like that?”

“It probably was I always had my reservations about that guy! Yeah, I guess I was just at the height of my confidence and felt like Jackson was so small. Plus, I would be leaving anyway and I didn’t want to have any regrets. That and I just have so much history with him, even though we didn’t talk much, we had so many classes together. I had to get it off my chest.”

“I get that, I mean a lot of the time I stand on the sidelines and am too self-conscious. In Europe, I felt much more free. I mean it’s taxing to put on an image all the time. I wish I could be as gutsy as you. Also did I ever tell you why I started liking Zac? It’s so cheesy!” I didn’t feel gutsy, because behind the barrier that is a computer, he can hide, and so could I. Really, I was setting myself up for getting lost in translation in cyberspace. That aside, I was still proud of myself, because it was out of my comfort zone and that is always gratifying.

“I wish you didn’t have to do that, because you’re awesome and I wish more people would take the time to see that. You started liking him in gym, right?”

“Thanks, you’re the sweetest and yeah it was when we were playing dodge ball. He ran into me and handed me one of his dodge balls. Since he is really pale and has white-blond hair, I was thinking, like, oh, I’ve been touched by an angel!”

“That is just great,” I stutter out before cracking up, and then she joins in, and we’re cracking up together. It is amazing how I can pick up right where I left off with her. Even though we both go to different schools in Jackson, and barely see each other, we somehow navigate through the craziness of it all.

The rest of our time is spent laughing at our younger selves in the old photo booth videos we made, Cole Spouse’s @camera_duels Instagram, and at how entertaining it is to stalk our favorite celebrities on social networking sites. Ally and I are so comfortable around each other; I have never met anyone who gets me the way she does.

We hug good-bye and promise to stay in touch, and all of it makes me nostalgic for her, but I know our friendship, and it is one that can withstand distance. Through it all, I realize that it made me feel better to joke around about being blocked, rather than harping on every last detail of why it happened, like every other time before. Life is funny that way, in that the one thing you are afraid to do ends up being just what you need.
Grudges aren’t helpful, and Louis didn’t deserve to have my happiness right at his fingertips. Forgiving is release and people deserve it. Otherwise, you will be trapped in your own negativity and eventually take a turn for the cynical, especially when it comes to love. Maybe one day he will see what he did in a new light, but for now I am happy I threw caution to the wind and did something that was for myself, and nobody else.

The Warranted Facebook Block
Have you ever been sent the single handedly scariest message from a girl on Facebook, because I have. It came late, and unexpectedly from Sophie. I had liked her ages ago, but I had convinced myself that I didn’t anymore. She never gave me the time of day, and eventually I became tired of waiting for her to want something to do with me.

Between putting her thumb down time and time again in heads up seven up, retrieving her science booklet for her, “accidentally” brushing past her, and eye contact, eye contact, eye contact, I thought she would catch on, but what did I know about teenage girls? Everything with them had to be so complicated, to the point that they needed an operation manual.

Sophie was no exception. She was a part of the utterly fascinating, yet entirely too confusing female species. She had porcelain doll skin, raven colored hair and the most mesmerizing eyes. It was as if a painter mixed mystical greens and blues, directly from the ocean, and poured the intoxicatingly beautiful combination into those eyes.

Typically, she wore no expression on her face to give anything away. This initially only added to her mystery, but then it became frustrating, because Sophie was ice. She was ice, because she didn’t know what else to be, it became a habit. Once habits are made they are seldom broken. Now, when I was near her, winter felt too close.

I was caught in a surge of concentrated feelings, because she couldn’t send me a message like that. She just couldn’t, she had no right. We had talked next to nothing, she had enticed me nonetheless, and then robbed what was left of my sanity. Sophie made no sense. One minute she pretended I didn’t exist, and the next she bares her soul to me through a keyboard.

I wasn’t ready to stomach what she was serving me, so I didn’t. In the end, I didn’t allow myself to think much of it, because I didn’t want to stir up what I had already buried. She was an antique at my grandmother’s trunk show, now, and only my closest friends and I needed to know what she did. I had waited a few days to let it sink in for myself, before deciding on a day to tell them.

That would all backfire when I saw her, though, like last night at the fair. There was a heavy awkwardness that hung in the air, as we both waited in line for Experience. Ironically, I felt like she had strewn me along like a puppeteer through quite the experience of my own. As the puppet, I had no say in what moves she made me pull next.

However, it turns out I had nothing to worry about, because she was inertia. I was the external force that tempted her to change, but to no ado. I left the ride, with only “Louis” ringing in my ears, from being talked about through Sophie’s muffled whispers.

Now my feelings began to shift, it was time I invited my friends over to play Call of Duty, and more importantly, give them the lowdown on Sophie. It was something I had the inability to adequately describe, but it was a feeling that washed over me, and there was no mistaking what it was.

This called for some serious rehashing. Some things are just best left unsaid, but this wasn’t one of them. I sent out a group text to Cameron and Lucas. Then I studied my phone in my vermillion Adirondack chair for quite some time, waiting for it to simulataneously glow and vibrate. I wasn’t entirely occupied with the task at hand, because I was entranced by the brilliant sunset and lusty fragrance of lilacs, but then it became too much. The flecks of colors hurt my eyes and the flowers made my nostrils explode. Nobody was responding.

***
“Louis, my man, what’s happening,” Cameron said, his goofy smile fully intact, and equipped with his signature trademarks of ebony hair and blazing eyes.

“Hey, Louis. We both know Cameron’s a riot,” Lucas chimes in, shaking his head, and blonde mop of surfer hair, at Cameron’s greeting, his emerald green eyes laughing in disbelief at his friend.

“Hi guys, I just wanted to talk about Sophie. I know I told you I had gotten over her, but this isn’t about that.”

“Ok,” they respond at the exact same time.
“Jinx,” they joyfully scream out like little kids.
“Gosh, guys. Grow up,” I tease.

“Ok, we’re listening. For real this time.”

“Alright, so Sophie sent me this Facebook message, saying, basically that she was moving and wanted to meet up and tell me something, but that it was ok if I didn’t want to. It kind of freaked me out, to be honest. I caught on to what she wanted to say, and wasn’t sure I could handle it, so I blocked her. What do you guys think?”

“Dude, Louis, I understand, but did you ever stop to think about how she was feeling? A block, with no explanation, that’s pretty harsh man,” says Cameron.

“Yeah I’ve gotta agree with Cameron on this one.”

“I guess I didn’t really think it through all that well, I just was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t block her and I still am.”

“Hey, we get it, but all we’re saying is just to think about it. I know you’re not into her that way anymore, but that doesn’t mean you have to go to the other extreme,” says Louis. He has always been more sentimental than me, and unfortunately, he knows what he is talking about.

“Ok, guys, you have given me a lot to think about, thanks. Now on a lighter note, we have some serious Call of Duty to play.”

“Yeah we do, I like your style,” drawls Cameron. Lucas and I playfully whack him and then get all geared up for our Call of Duty conference.

Once my friends leave, after a raucous night, I realize how quiet it is. I am left in a room of contemplation, trying to be more perceptive to how Sophie is feeling. I almost don’t want to leave it the way I did with her, because blocking implies more hate than I ever intended, and I don’t hate her. Not even close.

She will always be that perfectly modest girl with the sweetest personality, and a definite side of sarcasm. I was so mixed up, because, at the same time, I didn’t want to unblock her, because of that same reason again: I feared what I didn’t know. What if she sent me another message that I didn’t want to receive? What would I do then? I couldn’t meet her, because my cool boy façade I put on, would be gone, and left would just be me. That was why it was better kept for now.
Sophie would leave, with a wound on her heart from a block, and I would remember the night all too clearly. It would loom dauntingly close, haunting my memories. Maybe one day I would see her again and be able to explain, but right now that unsettled me. It unsettled me, because I would have to tell the truth, and the truth was that the message she sent was the most exquisite message I had ever received.