I am terrified of you. I can’t stand to see your avatar. It mocks me, ceaselessly reminding me of my every failure.  My heart drops every time I see those three little dots. They’re a startling reminder of your presence, like a shadow of your demon. When my phone tells me “Seen”, it is like I stumbled on the still-damp footsteps of a monster. The green dot signifying your presence online grows until it fills my vision, a great heavy, sickening glow.

But I can never tell you how scared I am of you. You could never understand. You would only be sad. The truth is that I never hate you or feel any fear or other strong emotions when you are with me. In fact, I love you. Your presence is always uplifting, your every word kind. Your friendliness lifts the spirits of every room you enter. Yes, your physical presence and your avatar could not be more different. I don’t know who it is, this other person I interact with while talking to you online. But it is certainly not the same person I saw yesterday. Who is it, this demon of you? 

For a while this was not the case. Maybe I just hadn't noticed it yet, but I used to love messaging you. You were so clever and kind. Back then I only knew you on the computer. I was sure you were perfect. Every post you made, every message you sent was beautiful. However, though we would speak often, there was always a wall between us. I was never very good at communicating back then, and I felt that you didn’t really know who I was. I made you a face that looked like yours, but I always made mistakes. Every time I said the wrong thing I was so embarrassed, but you never seemed to care.

When I saw you in person for the first time your true face was hideous to me. Is this the angel of my dreams? I was so frustrated, but there was no way I could tell you. I thought I loved you, but I was suddenly horrified by your reality. My former existence, yearning after something I couldn’t touch, seemed suddenly much more comfortable. You, on the other hand, were so happy to see me. I shunned you, though I had no reason to. I was cold to you, and you left. You did not speak to me for some time after this. I hid, ashamed of my illogical actions.

But, as always, you were there waiting for me. So patient and kind. You nurtured me and I began to feel more comfortable around you. When you would come to visit, I learned to love the real you, the physical you. However, as I started showing you more of myself, something began to change. The original you, the one that I fell in love with and idolized for so long, the beautiful avatar, became a stranger to me. Though I knew that the real you was there with me, the memory of my former passion began to haunt me. 

Slowly your digital presence, shrunk to the scale of a human by physical encounters, began to grow again. You began to mock me, subtly at first. You would ridicule my appearance or my actions with the tiniest gesture, so that I was barely aware of what was happening through the intense wave of shame they carried. Your messages became increasingly erratic, so that I could not predict whether you would respond in minutes or days. You would be present and in love with me one minute and gone, full of hatred, the next. You made yourself seem so many times more important than I. You knew exactly how to keep me hanging on a thread. 

At the same time, as I saw you in person more frequently, you stayed perfectly the same. Everything that started happening online was so subtle that it was barely worth mentioning in hindsight, and if I did bring anything up it seemed entirely inconsequential despite its huge impact on me. Besides, you never seemed to remember anything. Even your interests diverged: things which you love in person have become objects of ridicule in messages. Your writing is sharper now, and your vocabulary has shifted. 

After a brief period of what seemed like ordinary friendship, I was obsessed again. I tabulate every word and keep track of every miniature piece of data you leave behind. Every stray like on social media became significant, every minute’s pause. Once again you consume me like nothing else, but where once I was happily living through your image I am now utterly miserable. Were we ever meant to be? Why can’t I live happily? For so long I dreamed of being closer to you. Intimacy has only made me want to leave you forever.

I am terrified of you. I can’t stand to see your avatar. It mocks me, ceaselessly reminding me of my every failure.  My heart drops every time I see those three little dots. They’re a startling reminder of your presence, like a shadow of your demon. When my phone tells me “Seen”, it is like I stumbled on the still-damp footsteps of a monster. The green dot signifying your presence online grows until it fills my vision, a great heavy, sickening glow.

But I can never tell you how scared I am of you. You could never understand. You would only be sad. The truth is that I never hate you or feel any fear or other strong emotions when you are with me. In fact, I love you. Your presence is always uplifting, your every word kind. Your friendliness lifts the spirits of every room you enter. Yes, your physical presence and your avatar could not be more different. I don’t know who it is, this other person I interact with while talking to you online. But it is certainly not the same person I saw yesterday. Who is it, this demon of you? 

For a while this was not the case. Maybe I just hadn't noticed it yet, but I used to love messaging you. You were so clever and kind. Back then I only knew you on the computer. I was sure you were perfect. Every post you made, every message you sent was beautiful. However, though we would speak often, there was always a wall between us. I was never very good at communicating back then, and I felt that you didn’t really know who I was. I made you a face that looked like yours, but I always made mistakes. Every time I said the wrong thing I was so embarrassed, but you never seemed to care.

When I saw you in person for the first time your true face was hideous to me. Is this the angel of my dreams? I was so frustrated, but there was no way I could tell you. I thought I loved you, but I was suddenly horrified by your reality. My former existence, yearning after something I couldn’t touch, seemed suddenly much more comfortable. You, on the other hand, were so happy to see me. I shunned you, though I had no reason to. I was cold to you, and you left. You did not speak to me for some time after this. I hid, ashamed of my illogical actions.

But, as always, you were there waiting for me. So patient and kind. You nurtured me and I began to feel more comfortable around you. When you would come to visit, I learned to love the real you, the physical you. However, as I started showing you more of myself, something began to change. The original you, the one that I fell in love with and idolized for so long, the beautiful avatar, became a stranger to me. Though I knew that the real you was there with me, the memory of my former passion began to haunt me. 

Slowly your digital presence, shrunk to the scale of a human by physical encounters, began to grow again. You began to mock me, subtly at first. You would ridicule my appearance or my actions with the tiniest gesture, so that I was barely aware of what was happening through the intense wave of shame they carried. Your messages became increasingly erratic, so that I could not predict whether you would respond in minutes or days. You would be present and in love with me one minute and gone, full of hatred, the next. You made yourself seem so many times more important than I. You knew exactly how to keep me hanging on a thread. 

At the same time, as I saw you in person more frequently, you stayed perfectly the same. Everything that started happening online was so subtle that it was barely worth mentioning in hindsight, and if I did bring anything up it seemed entirely inconsequential despite its huge impact on me. Besides, you never seemed to remember anything. Even your interests diverged: things which you love in person have become objects of ridicule in messages. Your writing is sharper now, and your vocabulary has shifted. 

After a brief period of what seemed like ordinary friendship, I was obsessed again. I tabulate every word and keep track of every miniature piece of data you leave behind. Every stray like on social media became significant, every minute’s pause. Once again you consume me like nothing else, but where once I was happily living through your image I am now utterly miserable. Were we ever meant to be? Why can’t I live happily? For so long I dreamed of being closer to you. Intimacy has only made me want to leave you forever.