Look, I love Facebook as much as the next person. I look at the form of social media fondly. I consider Facebook the best way to keep in touch with friends, the best way to pick up news about who my friends are dating, and the best way to subtly brag about my life to my friends' timeline. Facebook is truly a magical way to connect friends (and strangers who you think you might know) together.

That is, until Facebook decides to betray you.

It was 12:47 pm today and I sat in the Exley lobby, trying desperately in vain to finish an essay due in less than 24 hours. After staring at the blank Google Doc for so long that it seemed like the stationary, blinking cursor was mocking me, I decided to take a break and scroll through my Facebook timeline for a while. Perhaps inspiration will come to me there, I thought, knowingly lying to myself, as I opened a new tab and typed "f," hit enter, and watched as the world of Facebook bloomed in front of me. Everything seemed to be in order. Friends who were part of my family were posting those quizzes that questioned "What Historical Writer Were You in a Past Life?" and friends from Wesleyan were posting desperately to see if anyone had found the WesID they lost last night. It was just a normal day on Facebook, just like all other four thousand, six hundred and eight days Facebook has been around.

I was content scrolling through my timeline until I noticed something peculiar on my chat bar. A pink birthday cake was visible next to the bright green dot that proclaimed my friend Jacob was online. I wracked my brain. Today was September 17th and I was pretty sure that Jacob's birthday wasn't until the next day. But there was that pink birthday cake, staring me in the face, making me question my memory of all 262 of my friends' birthdays.

I decided to double check. I went to the top of my timeline where Facebook always notified me of events that were going to happen that day. There it was, glaringly obvious:

I felt horrible. I had forgotten my friend's birthday, and without the saving grace of Facebook, my one true friend, I wouldn't have remembered to wish Jacob a happy birthday. I quickly opened up a chat and typed a casual "happy birthday dude." I hit enter and leaned back in my seat. Catastrophe avoided. I exited out of Facebook and attempted once again to write my essay.

The phone dinged as soon as inspiration hit me and I began to write. I looked down at the screen and saw that Jacob had replied to my chat. I swiped open the chat and saw his reply. "One day early, but thanks bud." My heart dropped. What did he mean? Today was his birthday. Facebook told me so. I began to search Facebook again, looking for proof to show Jacob that he was wrong, that he had forgotten his own birthday, that Facebook could never lie to me. Yet, when I looked again, the cake by Jacob's name was no more. The message on the top of my timeline reminding me of my friend's birthday had disappeared, replaced by an event hosted by my university that night. Every bit of proof that Facebook had my back disappeared without a trace. In fact, Facebook had done a complete 180 turn on me and decided to show me a glaringly obvious reminder:

I sent a quick apology to Jacob, describing the situation, and he laughed it off and then logged off. I was left staring at the feed that once was my friend, my constant companion, my opinion of the site quickly going sour. How could Facebook do this to me? Why would a site betray such a loyal user in this way?

After what seemed like an eternity of questioning a speechless computer screen, it dawned on me. People had been talking about how technology was fated to control us since the dawn of the Internet. I had never paid those conspiracy theories any mind because I didn't want to think negatively about the thing I loved. But I couldn't deny it anymore. Facebook had tested my willpower and dedication to my memory and I had failed, relying solely on the Internet instead. What does this mean? Was I a slave to the social media system? Facebook, a constant friend, was now a foe. The hand that fed me so much useless information, like the results to my acquaintances' Buzzfeed quizzes, had covered my eyes, thus covering the confidence I have in myself.

The real question, how was I going to confront this situation? The question has stumped me for the past couple of hours. Maybe if I just take a break and go to Facebook, I'll think of it. Better yet, maybe someone on Facebook has already thought of the solution for me....