Internet Time Machine

When We Start Over

On breakups and algorithms

This story is part of the Internet Time Machine, a collection about life online in the 2010s.

“We don’t talk anymore, but when he starts dating again I’ll know,” I told the friend who’d just asked about my ex. She and I were sharing a joint at my going away party, days before I would print out a one-way ticket to the clean slate of Los Angeles. To start over, or to try.

“How?” she asked.

“He’ll delete my profile from his Netflix account,” I told her.

It made logical sense: He’d come home from some date — a setup or a right-swipe, I wasn’t sure — and settle into an apartment I’ve never seen and probably never will. He’ll turn on his TV, or maybe his laptop, and before he can even begin to scroll through any number of wildlife documentaries, there I am. My name, my avatar — one more ominous reminder of that time we shared our lives. Maybe there’s a girl with him, and her presence will remind him of my absence in every place but one. And poof. The shared Netflix account goes Gone, Girl. It’s only right. We’d broken up six months ago, and I’d never thrown him my half of the bill, anyway.

Any act of starting over has incidentals.