(SNN) - She stole my heart and then she stole my identity. 

I woke up at noon, changed out of my Star Wars pajamas and stumbled out of my bed room. I snuck down to the kitchen for a bowl of Cornflakes and found a note from my girlfriend Blinka saying she’d left me.

My supposed soul-mate didn’t have the decency to empty the garbage on the way out. She took everything except the Cornflakes.

Luckily, I sleep with my smartphone so I could immediately update my 43 Facebook friends.

“Disaster! I can’t find my Xbox controller.”

Radio silence! No snark, but no sympathy either from my so-called support network. Not even one “like” from my so-called friends.

I don’t actually know any of my Facebook friends.  I’m uncomfortable opening up to people I know so I only accept friend requests from strangers.  This way, I feel connected; but it never gets weird.

By weird, I mean how it might feel if people I really know were having more fun than me.

What if, say,  one “friend” was having a birthday party and didn’t invite someone else they knew and posted pictures of everyone having fun except for that mutual acquaintance who was, like, totally free that night and didn’t live too far away and would even be willing to bring over his complete Blu-Ray Star Wars collection with action figures?

It’s not that I don’t have real friends. My Guild Wars team is really tight. I just don’t feel right about burdening my real friends with personal stuff.

If I ever wanted to talk to real people about my problems, I could ride the bus.

Still, the collapse—no, total freaking implosion—of my social network surprised me more than the collapse of my common law marriage.

Blinka once accused me of being more loyal to my so-called social network than they are to me. They ignore me no matter how often I “like” their cat videos, ballet performances and birthday party pictures. Whenever they check in to Chucky Cheese I offer supportive comments like, “Love that place!” or “Power down the pizza, little dude!”

Whatever. Thought they’d be there for me. A bunch of selfish kids. That’s what they turned out to be.

And all those beautiful women who tweet me? Were they supportive when my girlfriend left? Fat chance! Even after all the time and emotional energy I Invest to alert them that posting pole dancing videos could exceed their data plan limits and jeopardize future employment opportunities?  

There was no reason for my Blinka to be jealous of those naïve young girls I was trying to help.

I gave Blinka the best room in the apartment. I let her interrupt my marathon Grand Theft Auto sessions to watch MTV. The pantry was always full of Pop Tarts and I never let the milk get sour. I even let Blinka use my iPhone to post her audition videos on line.

Abandoned! That’s the thanks I get for caring. Still, I can’t bring myself to hate her. Blinka had such a big heart. She was so hospitable to all those lonely rich guys needing a shower and a place to spend the night. She was so affectionate with total strangers. I just don’t understand how she could have done me so wrong.

I’m ashamed for even thinking like this, but I’m starting to wonder if she was just taking advantage of me just because I was her Parole Officer.

Anyway, given the restraining order, I guess I’ll have to un-follow her.

Photo by: Rishi Bandopadhay fickr photostream, Some Rights Reserved, The Sage nor this article endorsed.