Social media, isolation, and life apart from earthly friends

One friend in a lifetime is much; two are many; three are hardly possible. Friendship needs a certain parallelism of life, a community of thought, a rivalry of aim.

— Henry Brook Adams

At long last I think I may give up on Twitter—that is, X—entirely. Earlier this year, I deleted my original account, opened in 2009: I had 30 days to log back in and the 30 days came and went, so it’s gone. I have another account, with fewer than 50 followers, but still with some nice interactions. But in addition to wasting time with that account, I’m getting worn out.

I’m worn out in multiple aspects of social life. It’s too long a story to tell, but by my late 20s and now in my early 30s, I have few close personal friends. Those I did know well—better than I knew any others, at least—I seem to be losing touch with, through geographic distance or relational coolness or loss of common interests or doctrinal difference or something else; I could not say.

But I’ve plodded along trying to be friends: online, in person, via text or X or real-life visiting. Some of my efforts seem to wear me out. I know that friendship is a two-way thing, but that’s just it, it’s a two-way thing! How long should I really continue to sink time into:

• Does this person like to be with me?
• Why does that person rarely text me?
• Does the other person not know I’m an X follower, or is it an intentional declining to follow me back?
• What will that person think if I start doing this?
• Will this person like me less if it gets out that I believe that?
• Is it worth inviting the other person over again, or am I the only one in this relationship who really wants to be friends?

I don’t mean to attack. I don’t want to belittle the kindness of the ones who do befriend me. I don’t consider myself a good human being or very interesting and I don’t know for sure that I’d want to be friends with me, if I weren’t me. And I’m sure my failings are too many to be numbered in a stupid but sad blog post.

I guess isolation comes in multiple forms: one can be isolated in a place, far from others who would otherwise have much in common; one can be isolated theologically and know almost no one who shares certain beliefs. One may even simply be not a major contributor to parties or gatherings and thus be sometimes left alone when those occur, and that may be a form of isolation.

I think I’ll try to go ahead and accept that. I have a wonderful church family who I must get to know better, I have a wife who when I think that God brought her to me it makes me cry, and I have dear children who I must be a friend to, and who will need to face this issue some day themselves. Friendship is important, and community is necessary, but not everybody is promised a life on earth flooded with the joyous and strengthening companionship of fellow passengers to the grave. What I’m promised is by the Lord Jesus, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee” (Hebrews‬ ‭13‬:‭5‬ ‭KJV‬‬). Please, God, help me to hold on to that.