I didn’t know who I was without it.

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I just thought I was living it.

For years, it lived on a screen,

Photos. 
Captions. 
Stories shaped just enough to land a certain way.

I posted everything.

Dinners.
Trips.
Night out before they even ended.

I was the one with updates.
The one tagging everyone.
The one making sure it was all documented.

Sometimes I said yes
Just so there was something to post.

Then California.
And the near-death experience.

And I went quiet.

One day I missed a post.
Then another.
Then nothing.

At first, it felt wrong.

The quiet stretched.

Nothing to prove.
Nothing to show.

Just… time passing.

Sometimes I’d see other people posting
and feel it.

That flicker.

Like I disappeared.

Then the messages came.

I didn’t know how to answer.

Without the updates,
there wasn’t much to say.

My phone stopped lighting up as much.
Entire weekends passed undocumented.

Without the performance,
I couldn’t tell who I was
supposed to be.