Facebook.

A high school friend of mine showed up unexpectedly to the show on Thursday, and we chatted a bit. We talked about her relationship, which was going on three years (I think). Despite the fact that they both REALLY like each other, she told me that they didn't really have a future together, and were probably going to break up eventually. Apparently eventually is two days later. According to Facebook, that is, which told me yesterday that she is now single. It accompanied that information with a pictorial interpretation of how she must be feeling — a little heart cracked in two. You know the one.

I don't dislike this new simplified version of getting out the news. But a few things struck me. First was the retroactive feeling of being in the know, a retroactively voyeuristic appreciation of our conversation. The second was that I wondered, how long after closing the door on him, or walking away from his stoop, did she think to log on to her computer and check a different box on a website? Does that demonstrate a remarkably short grieving process? She must be pretty confident of it sticking; how embarrassing would it be to change one's Facebook relationship status back to "In a relationship" so soon. And maybe that's a reason to publicize the break-up: a stick to keep oneself from backsliding into a faulty relationship.

The last thing that I thought about was the black and white nature of Facebook's pronouncement. "Single." "In a relationship." Sometimes it's helpful to think of things as simply as possible. (Granted, Facebook does offer the nebulous "It's complicated," but that is so open that it is practically meaningless. "It" might as well refer to "life.") Spending only one word of mental energy on my relationship status leaves me far more time to think about other things. I have enough problems without having to worry about definitions.