Despite the few moments of yuks that Johnny Rotten's new career as a dairy product pitchman has provided me, I'm not in a terribly good mood today. I'm a couple steps up from "poleaxed", which was how I felt when I got the news, but, overall, still not good.
I mean, it's not like I haven't been here before. People leave Second Life. It happens. Sometimes they come back, and other times they don't.
I never expected her to leave, though. The die had already been cast before I found out. I was left to examine the pieces of her that remained online, trying to divine answers and solutions from the remnants.
And I knew the futility of even looking. But even the illusion of action is better than dwelling on one's inability to actually help, I guess. At least, that's what I'm telling myself now. But I can't get around the idea that my friend is out there somewhere, one of the multitudes upon multitudes of strangers whom I will never look in the eye, and whatever the situation is, I can't help her.
It's the kind of thing that's like an ongoing kick in the gut.
I joined SL on a lark. In pretty much the same spirit, I started making t-shirts and stuff for Averlast. I never expected to form a friendship such as would leave a hole in me with her absence.
There's more... I could ramble all day here... but I think I've embarrassed everyone enough.