The Unknown Reader

Today my head is buzzing in an uncomfortable way. The heavy whisper of a headache is squeezed behind my right temple and pulsing colorfully (probably a lurid violet or orange). I feel it hammering its way into my skull. The cure would probably be two Advil and an hour and a half nap. But I’m at work. So, instead of sleeping and downing medication (which, now that I think of it, I know where some Advil is, so I will probably try and root that up in a minute), I will write this and try and figure out my schedule for the day and eat too much candy out of the candy drawer.

Alright, so here’s something odd: I know this couple that broke up recently. And on Facebook the guy keeps writing on his blog and updating his status and adding new quotes about love-gone-wrong,, etc. And I check his profile everyday to see how he is doing. I really don’t know him at all–but yet I care. I can’t explain that. Maybe it’s because this guy seems to lay his feeling out there for everyone to see. We all have these protective barricades we build around ourselves in which we try to convince other people--and consequently ourselves-- that we are okay, that no hit is too hard, that nothing penetrates or makes us weak. So I respect this guy for doing this. For feeling so publicly–even if it’s something I would never do. I know he does some of it to catch her eye–to make her see, probably in hopes of making her care again. I even tell Jordan about it and give her the update on his life and how he’s dealing with things. It’s ridiculous and I guess could be seen as mildly creepy–but I just care. So, let’s take a hopeful perspective on this, shall we (because I really prefer to not be thought of as a creepy person)? Maybe you think no one cares about your life or reads your blog or wonders how you’re doing, but you just might have your very own... me. Someone who does care and reads it all and thinks about you, even though they don’t know you well. Fancy that.