I hate Facebook.
Well, it's a love-hate relationship really. I like the useful parts of it that allow me to share things with my family without having to worry about the eight-hour time difference and trying to arrange times to chat that suit everyone's schedule. For the little details that can spark later conversations, it can be quite wonderful.
But not always.
Yesterday I found out that on the 12th, the friend I've known the longest (since I was ten), was in a car accident. I found out by reading her post on Facebook about having been to see the doctor and dealing with insurance and being lucky to only have minor injuries but that she hurt like hell.
I frantically go to her profile to look for a previous post, and see none. So then I flip to her husband's profile and see his post saying that the SUV she was driving was hit by a woman running a red light two blocks from their house.
I felt like I couldn't breath, like every bit of air was sucked out my lungs and I had become paralyzed.
But she was fine. That's the amazing news that allowed me to breath again, to feel like my heart would keep beating while I digested the fact that it's so difficult for me to find out things over here and that I tend to learn them from Facebook.
It troubles me in a way I'm still trying to work out. it's like Facebook becomes a conduit for our deepest pain and joy but yet offers no way to really deal with it. 'Here's you news, have a good day!' Bam! Side-swept.
I know that if she had been more severely injured, I would have be informed, so it's not the lack of immediate knowledge that bothers me so much as the fact that I carried on my life for two whole days while my friend's world came to a standstill 6000 kilometeres away from me.
As much as the world feels so tiny, especially with things like social media, sometimes the distance seems more vast than I can truly comprehend.