Tonight, a “friend” of mine on Facebook provided a thoughtful post that I appreciated for its candidness.

In preparation of the pruning of her friends list, she at least warned people that she was pulling in and trying to regain some focus in her life, and that some connections would be lopped this evening. I put “friend” in quotes because I have never met her, or her husband, although they are two people I met though links to other friends, and we seem to comment regularly on each others’ offerings. I don’t know her, and I made a comment about having only quotes, bible verses, arcane movie lines, Lobo sports propaganda, and Cubs crap that she would little miss from me.

Her husband appreciated the comedy.

Still, in this electronic and virtual world, where being connected may mean we only share ethernet bursts back and forth containing a few of our words and pictures, there is some meaning to gaining “friends” and “followers” online.

And there is also significance in losing them.

It’s a strange twist of modern life, but nowadays, as denizens of different social media sites, we get to experience new versions of association and dissociation, and in some ways they can be triumphant- and also troubling.

Where else in real life could I exchange insider thoughts about the Cubs’ coming season with New York Times money columnist Ron Lieber if I wasn’t for a community chat with him on Twitter.

How else could I know about the dining habits and family interests and coaching opinions of former Lobo coach and ESPN Analyst Fran Fraschilla if Twitter didn’t exist? I “followed” him, and I can get his thoughts on everything from diners to the Dayton Fliers.

Which I means I can follow pretty much anyone who wants to put their life on Twitter. If they are on there, you can talk at them- and they might talk back to you. And if, by some amazing miracle, they “follow” you, you have tweeting cred.

Facebook is a little different, though. It is more intimate.

In Facebook, people don’t just accept your words or your picture, like they do when they favorite your tweet. If someone “friends” you on Facebook, it comes with an assumed inference that they accept you, and consequently, are interested in you.

Which makes the whole association/dissociation thing more interesting here.

Where Twitter followers are colleagues in the workplace and marketplace, coming and going with the tides of interests and intrigues, Facebook followers are “friends”. Friends.

Among the detritus of Buzzfeed and Answers.com and Mashable articles I’ve skimmed in the last months was one piece a Facebook friend had posted that made me stop and think.

It was an article by Johann Hari called “The Likely Cause of Addiction Has Been Discovered, and It Is Not What You Think” and it made the argument that the reason people struggle with and fall headlong into addictions is greatly due to their inability to connect with others. Connection failure drives unhealthy dependencies. As the article suggests (along with the sea of addicted people that inhabit our world), connection is a premium position that everyone wants, but that many people miss.

Which is why Facebook “unfriending” and Twitter “unfollowing” do impact us if we are connection hungry.

Just last week, I received an email in my inbox that told me one of my nine followers of this blog had unregistered from following me. And I knew who she was- someone I liked, who has been my friend over the past few years, who I’ve shared some closer talks with about life and heart stuff and dealing with hurts and such.

After reading the email, it made me stop and wonder, “What does this mean?” My natural response, being the fragile ego that I am, is that she didn’t want to know me any more. Or at least know my thoughts. I wondered if I needed to email her, and ask her what happened. What went wrong? Did I say something wrong? What would I say when I saw her in the future? Because even though it happened online, it was a rejection of me, wasn’t it?

That’s a problem with social networking. It blurs the line between real relationships and “virtual” ones. And, for many, I’m sure, gaining and losing the virtual ones has some emotional impact. We still feel loved when others want to know us, and we feel loss when those we like disconnect from us. The rejection can still feel as strong.

Perusing Facebook a bit this evening to check on folks, I noticed a post from another of my “friends”- a gal who, with her husband, lead music at another campus associated with my home church. In the picture is her husband, and she celebrates him verbally for his birthday. I know I was “friends” with him on here at one time, and though we didn’t talk a lot, that knowledge felt like I was invited to be in his life. I could participate in his world if I wanted, because I was “in” his Friend list.

Well, I thought to myself, “Hmm- I haven’t seen a post from him in a long time. Am I still on his Friend list?” I went to his wife’s Facebook page and clicked on the Friends box, and scanned down the Mutual Friends tab.

And he wasn’t there.

Which meant I wasn’t his friend.

The oddity is that he was the first pastor at our campus, and I was in the crew of the 70 or so who went over there to start that location with him.

And technically we are still members of the same church.

And I felt the sting: my one-time connection to him didn’t matter. I wasn’t really his friend.

In a community where authentic friendship is critical and crucial and sought and expected.

Once again, I remind myself: virtual friendships are largely just that- coincidental connections that have a nominal shelf life based on curiosity and convenience, and the availability of an internet connection.

There are the periodic success stories that make virtual connection real friendships, though.

The best “non-date” date I’ve been on in my life came as a result of being Facebook friends with an anti-trafficking lawyer from Denver, through whom I met another anti-trafficking lawyer who happened to share my tastes in music, humor, and optimism. While vacationing up there several summers back, Anna and I had planned to meet up, and a coffee ended up being dinner in a swanky restaurant and dancing with a breezy brunette late into the evening. We enjoyed talking so much that we had followup coffee the next morning before I left town for home. Anna became a real friend to me that evening, someone I could call whenever if I needed to.

And more recently, I ended up connecting with Derek from a township in Massachusetts, a guy I started following on Twitter for his web programming thoughts, who would engage me. In time, we made the jump to “friends” on Facebook, and we talk books and cinema a lot. I sent him a favorite book of mine. His woof sent me a Chris Farley photo with a quote on it from Saturday Night Live one Christmas.

It’s the real life exchanges that validate the virtual deal. But its the virtual exchanges that can jog our feelings.

When that girl I spent years around regularly and I finally told her how I felt about her unfriended me online, my status with her was clear. I was unplugged from her profile- and mind, and life.

We all long for connections. Social networking acts a lot like the real thing, and can feel like it. But is it?

Friending and following? Unfollowing and unfriending?

“What would Jesus do?”

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POSTSCRIPT: I survived and remained unpruned on my “friend”s list. Thanks, Jonea.

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Image Credit: unfriend by Oli Dunkley via Flickr. Creative Commons license.