21st Century Courtship Rituals

A man sits in front of his computer. He sits and stares at his desktop for a long time, wondering if he has the nerve to admit to himself that what he'll be doing qualifies as creepy, or worse. He tries to convince himself it's in the name of getting to know someone a little better. He tries hard, but he fails. His inner-demons hold the truth over him like a torch, lighting the way towards his journey of pathetic.

He sighs. He takes the mouse reluctantly, and clicks on his Mozilla Firefox icon. He types in the address for Facebook, and stares at the screen again. This time the guilt is a tangible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knows full well that what he's doing is sad and lonely. He tries to make one last attempt to reason with himself. He fails.

He types in the first three letters of her name, and the box appears. It shows her name, and status. It hasn't changed since the last time. He clicks on the box since it would be even more shameful somehow to type out her whole name. Her profile comes up. His mixture of guilt and being smitten overtakes him. There's essentially no turning back now. He clicks on photos, looks at a few and sighs audibly. He grows resentful of the vague allusion her relationship status. Married to her best friend? Really? Why can't she be honest! It's not funny anymore!

Now is the time we have reached the point of no return. He feels even more compounded shame and disgust with himself. He sighs one last time, and clicks the X on the top of the window. He decides he needs to stop doing this. He knows she's not single. Why submit yourself to that kind of torture?

He thinks for a few seconds, then clicks on the Mozilla Firefox icon again. He watches some streaming porn videos, tops himself off, and heads to bed. He'll likely go through the same routine in a few days.