I’m okay with admitting I’m an Instagram creep.
I checked my phone today, and I found out I use 17 percent of my phone battery on the app.
I won’t lie and say I was entirely happy with that finding.
Yet, 15 minutes later, I was on the app again to see if anything new had been posted.
As much as I love following my friends, the posts I look for are from my Instagram crushes. These are the people whose lifestyles entice me, confuse me and make me just so incredibly jealous.
I feel a separation from them, not just due to my lack of following, but because my life seemed incomparable.
They jet-set around the world, eat fancy lunches and go to “invitation only” events.
I travel maybe a few times a year and make my own meals. The only invitations I get are from friends to get “buy one, get one” beers at the pub down the street.
For a while, my Instagram crushes tantalized me with the beauty of their lives.
I actually became frustrated that I was working at a meaningless job just to make ends meet, while they were actually living the life of my dreams.
Then, it clicked.
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