Like A Cheshire Cat

Occasionally I entertain unplugging everything and fading into the background.

The reason the idea is compelling and recurring is I've reconnected with lost friends more than once to find that the person I was friends with had somehow been replaced with someone alien.

Which is to say, we'd developed independently from one another in each other's absence.

But what that reconnection did, mainly, was destroy all of the happy memories of that person ever being my friend.

That brings me to the allure of disconnecting.

It's essentially going out on top with everyone who likes you still liking you, but a bit perplexed you'd disappeared.  They get the warm glow of nostalgia over the friendship without encountering what an asshole you really are (or if they've realized what a dick you are, they get the relief of no longer dealing with it).

When you are a stay at home parent of a special needs child, your world ends at your front door and it's easy to implode.

Addendum:

Another part of the pattern is that with very few exceptions, I am the one who initiates all contact with the few friends I have.  If I don't call/message/email/write; no contact occurs.  I get the feeling, sometimes, that I am missing a hint and they're just being polite when I call/message/email/write.