Facebook
the bright monitor
glares through inky darkness--
a clock ticks
My heart lurches painfully in my chest as my mind tries to process what I'm seeing. My mug of coffee sits on the coffee table -- how fitting -- beside my laptop, releasing its unique aroma into the dim room. The scent is usually comforting, yet I don't feel comforted. The liquid usually warms my sleepy body, yet I feel cold.
Suddenly, life seems utterly ridiculous. I woke up ten minutes ago to the sound of a blaring alarm, and already I'm on my laptop. I haven't even been awake for a quarter of an hour, and I'm already on the internet. To read my e-mails, to skim over online newspapers, to check the daily weather forecast. To connect to an increasingly disconnected world.
And now, inevitably, I'm on Facebook.
status updates
teem with comma splices--
eyes roll
Yes, it's all ridiculous. Why do I care that a "friend" of mine is having eggs for breakfast? Why do I care that another "friend" is shopping for shoes today and hopes to find a pair to match her new dress? I don't care, yet here I am. And now, as I stare at the third status update, I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. With a metallic taste in my mouth, I re-read it once again: "RIP Timothy. You have touched so many lives and will be missed more than you know. See you on the other side."
The news crashes over me like ice water; at first, numbing, and then so painful I can't breathe. Someone I've known since kindergarten is dead. Gone. Forever. And even though he and I were never close, I have more memories of him than I do of some of my closest friends.
And now he has touched me in a way that most of my friends never will -- he has reminded me of mortality. He has reminded me that death is not an abstract concept reserved for breaking news stories or unrealistic cop shows.
morning light
leaks through heavy curtains--
a phone vibrates
I barely notice the blinking red light on my Blackberry. I continue to stare at my computer screen, unsure of whether I should be laughing or crying. Facebook has not only become a place for wedding or pregnancy announcements. It's not only a place for photo-shopped pictures of exaggerated happiness. It has become an obituary -- an early-morning slap in the face.
It saddens me that all I know (or knew) of Timothy is what he chose to include in his Facebook profile. The little boy from my childhood is gone, and now the faceless man I never really knew is gone too.
I close my laptop. I eat breakfast, have a quick shower, get dressed. And then I go to work. Because, really, what else is there to do?
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