Time bombs

Facebook has found a way to invade the black hole I have carefully cultivated for my own peace of mind.  Yesterday someone popped up claiming to be responding to a request for friendship I know I never sent, never would have sent, now, solidly entrenched in among my friends.

The nightmares follow.  Depression hovers over me like a hawk waiting to swoop in at any moment and consume me.  Nothing can undo what is already done.

I now have that Cheshire cat smile hanging above me, watching me, grinning with maniacal glee. A self-satisfied, unshakable smile that has delighted in my discomfort.  Like a snake in the grass, it can silently pop up when I least expect it and shock me into remembering things I thought were forgotten.

Amazed at the way the past can ruin the present, I have done everything in my power to avoid it. I collect pictures, but nothing else in my house, except my jewelry, is more than four years old.  I have found such comfort in that.

It makes me feel free, clean, healthy, devoid of the ugliness of past things -- and I miss it.