Numb

I know I've written before about the wonders of Facebook.

I've reconnected with people I went to elementary school. I can see what my high school friends are doing, see updates of their lives with their families. There's also that magically wonderful calendar that reminds you of birthdays.

I think the biggest shock is when there is a tragedy. Something that blindsides you and makes you wonder if you misread things. It's so hard to read emotions in what a person writes, but for the most part it's easy to laugh at the jokes, reminisce about music and movies and games, and read about the snippets people share.

An old friend took his life on Monday. I didn't know him as well as most of the others, but he was a part of our loose group of friends. We played in the journalism room, teased one another while working on the yearbook, and had a table among the senior benches where we sat as group and laughed.

It's so strange to be sitting here, crying about something that I don't think anyone could have prevented. But this person seemed so full of life up until last week when he posted his last note. He had traveled to Asia with his wife, they had just moved from NY to CA and bought a house over the summer, and he was posting notes about rescuing a pit bull. There seemed to be plans being made with others online for the future, and his notes and comments showed nothing wrong at all with anything.

I hadn't seen him for years. We lost touch until Facebook, though a mutual friend of ours tried a few times to get us all together for coffee or something whenever she could. I never made an effort, and I regret not getting a chance to talk to him at least once in the last 19 years since we graduated from high school.

My heart goes out to his wife. I don't know what she could possibly be going through, and I hope that she manages to make sense of all this and get on with life.

At the same time, I'm hugging my husband and trying to remain positive so the baby isn't affected by any of these emotions. I'll be pulling out my yearbooks and looking at pictures later, and trying to believe he is in peace somewhere.