I've been unable to communicate with SNS Guy for two weeks. Two weeks. In the online world, that's like a year, isn't it?
Time is different in this world. Not hearing from someone for two days is a big deal, and responses are expected for emails within 24 hours, at the most. Sooner is better, of course.
And time becomes more intensive for long distance relationships. If all I have of you is email or text messages, the longer the time between them feels like time without you. And that hurts.
Anyway, I've been thinking about the relativity of time today. The two weeks without contact with SNS Guy were long and drawn out. Time crawled and I was a victim to it with nothing to do but wait. I've missed him terribly.
Sometimes, though, time flies by. My oldest son leaves in two weeks to move to the other side of the earth with a one way ticket and no return date. I can already see the days moving faster than I can count them until he leaves, and I'm powerless to slow them down, just as I couldn't make them go by faster so I could talk to SNS Guy sooner.
Of course, I know that the amount of time within a two week period is constant. Every two week period has the same number of days, hours, and minutes. I'm the one who's changing. I'm the one aching for it go faster or desperate to slow it down. I'm the one with the emotional investment. Time has absolutely no sense that I'm dying to speak with someone I love or that I'm afraid that I won't see my son again.
To the relentless march of time, it's just two weeks.