The Girl Who Shared Too Much

This is a rather weird portion of my senior sem project from years ago, one I feel was rather undeveloped re-reading it. It is certainly still interesting as a concept, though!

The Girl Who Shared Too Much

    Breakfast was rather dull without her bright smart phone screen lighting up her eggs and orange juice, even though her fiancé’s face seemed to provide its own light across the table that she was envious of every day. Her own face, though uniquely stunning, never seemed to light up on its own. The contour of her cheekbones and the angles of her jawline only glowed under the light of a screen, where compliments were free and easily given.

   Tablets, Kindles, iPhones, laptops, TVs, the number of screens she actually had may have astonished some, but to her, they were just more mirrors around the house. She thought she felt a vibration on the table and instinctively reached for her phone, realizing red-faced that it was, as it always was, the L a block away rattling their second story apartment walls.

    “You realize it’s an actual addiction” her fiancé continued to say; as her hands flew back to the fork and egg she should have been focusing on. He sounded lighthearted enough, but she knew that after her last ‘incident’ his already short fuse needed no more excuse to be lit.

    “I was just wondering if mom got my text last night about changing our engagement photo shoot appointment to Tuesday instead of Saturday. The weather is supposed to get nasty this weekend, at least that’s what my….”

    “Phone told you, I know.” His half-finished egg sandwich found its way to the trash can as his feet found their way out of the kitchen. “I could have told you if you asked me you know, real people do watch weather and communicate face to face, weird I know,” his voice trailed monotonously away and she was sure he was going to leave for work before giving her a kiss goodbye.

    She put her plate haphazardly in the dishwasher and gulped down her orange juice as she remembered the last time he refused to kiss her. It was a couple months into their engagement and he refused to kiss her goodnight, not even on her cheek. Panic started to set in again as she recalled that night, the way he found her mirrors all open.

    It was her tablet, sitting on the bed that night, which caused it all. Usually, she was good about putting away her things and locking her screens and doors before bed, but that night she was floating on a happy high that made her forgetful.

    A smile crept across her face thinking of that particular incident, starting to light up the edges of her mouth. She shouldn’t be smiling at all, which made her panic even more as she speed walked down the hallway to the sound of his toothbrush hitting the sink in the bathroom.

    “It only happened twice. You know I feel bad, it wasn’t like I actually cheated on you though.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, her mouth that definitely wasn’t going to get a kiss now, and she timidly watched the light leave his face and join the hue of hers.

    “Twice that I know of. And darling, you left your laptop open this morning in the living room. Let’s not pretend you still think it’s not cheating.”

    Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest, or maybe stop, as guilt and fear rushed through her body. She ignored the instinct to turn around and check her laptop, as well as her instincts to cry or leave.

    It was the shutter of the camera, the click of her smartphone flash, that made her most happy usually. The satisfaction of knowing that temporary beauty she held was captured and ready to be shared.

   No, she couldn’t even lie to herself anymore, it was the click of the mouse as she pressed share online that really satisfied her. That hollow click meant that her photos were being sent out and viewed and admired and that people would tell her how meaningful her mirrors are to them as well.

  Hungry eyes meant nothing to her when she considered the nude factor, the amount of skin she was actually showing. Cybersex wasn’t sex to her, it was attention and admiration. Sex was deeper in real life, it was connection and love.

    “Your phone is ringing”.

    She didn’t hear her phone, though, as she was concerned with the continually fading light in her fiancé’s face. She loved that light more than anything in the world, she was sure of that as she stood before him. She was also sure that the only light she could count on tomorrow was that of her screens and mirrors.




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