Maybe it was an act that needed to make the situation real to me, but I was in the middle of writing Jonathan a letter on Sunday and I remembered that there wasn't anyone to answer. Boom, I freeze up for two minutes and then sit back in my chair for another ten and come close to tears.

I... I'll reflect more on this later.

One of my best friends was killed back in '90 and ever since then I would go into a depression every October. Usually about a week or so. Then last year I decided to post a memorial Facebook page. I know, it's cliche, it's borderline tacky but it helped me a lot to post every photo I had of him and tell stories in the notes section. All his other friends loved it too.



THE
SOCIAL HEALING
AARDVARK

I heard of bin Laden's death via my girlfriend getting on Facebook with her iPad at my house. Now, granted, we weren't close, but I still expected to have had someone go door to door telling us the boogeyman was dead.

For the record, I would not have answered that door.

I agree with RetroRomper. There are certain things I'd rather hear in person vs. reading it via a social network site.

A couple of years ago I spent several hours waiting for a phone call after I heard that my sister was in labor. I eventually called and was told that she had had the baby 4 hours earlier. When I mentioned to my mother that a phone call would have been nice, she told me, "well, she put it on Facebook ..."

I don't think I have been notified of anyone's death via Facebook yet, but I know I am friends with at least three people who have passed away.

Generally I'd recommend posting in the "I Can't Believe Tdarcos Outlived..." thread. Let the healing begin.

Where the official way to notify someone of the passing of a close friend, is by random "RIP <>INSERT NAME HERE<>" status updates appearing in their Facebook news feed nearly a month after the event. Updates which give nothing as to the COD, funeral services, or other prudent information.

Maybe what bothers me, is that I don't think he would have wanted me to have found out this way... Alone with the knowledge and without any context to hold onto.

So...

SO....

Here I am, trying to piece together a world where there is something just slightly different, slightly smaller about the reality around me because of the absence of a brace that has now collapsed.

How do I respond to this?

Coping isn't an option.

Twisting my grief, this darkly glowing depression into a drive, into motivation, feels shallow.

Grief... Grief won't serve any end.

Maybe acknowledging it? Typing words that will fling me to this new state of reality?

"Goodbye Jonathan."

Let me go to bed, wake tomorrow and I'll discover if they have.

Retro