Farewell

I first met her online, in the immediate aftermath of the last breakup when I was feeling a little distraught and betrayed, and the gradual creeping realization that I'd been a terrible judge of character - of my own volition - and loved and trusted someone who I shouldn't even have been friends with was starting to set in.
I was at turns bitter, disappointed and resigned, and was spending a lot of time hanging around the lab working on a project because of the quiet and solitude it offered me away from trivial thoughts of red flags that I had ignored, balances in relationships, people taking other people for granted, and whether it was inevitable to stray when absolute trust was gifted; I needed to do.
I think it was a Sunday afternoon; I remember the evening sun streaming in. I messaged her on a whim, she was one of the strangers on my gchat, friend of a friend, and author of a blog which I liked to visit from time to time.
She was studying for an exam - either path or physiology - but took the time out to listen and offer what comfort she could. We spoke in between doing our work far past sundown and got to know each other. I remember she was funny, humorous and a good listener. And that she was happy - so happy - to be chasing down her dream of becoming a veterinarian, under all the growly resentment of having to mug for the malignant "basic" science exam-monsters that I once slew myself.
Everyday life got in the way, and we spoke less and less frequently. She flew back once and rang me up, and we came within a hair's breadth of meeting up for a coffee, but our schedules were just a little too busy and it didn't quite happen.
Life went on, and she became The Person who Posted Funny Snips about Being Assaulted by Horses and other Farm Animals on my facebook wall. I took it for granted that she would always be there, and that we would meet someday in the distant future; that she was a stone's throw away on gchat and sms. I treated her the way I treat most of my friends, which is poorly.

I saw the post by one of our mutual friends on facebook yesterday while I was dozing off in the tea room waiting for the operation to start; I followed the link and read the newspaper article. And somewhere along the way the pieces finally fell into place, in my muggy post-call, food-deprived head. My God, this person - this faintly familiar firstnamelastname - was Her. Double whammy, She was dead.

Dead in the worst possible way, at the prime of her life, in a trivial moment that cost her her life, driving her family back to the airport, the unlucky sole non-survivor of a tragic accident, dying on site just as help arrived with her family incapacitated all around her. Five weeks away from graduation, from attaining her dream.

Dead and gone. Her facebook wall is flooding over with sadness, with people pouring out their grief about missing her and hoping that she rests in peace; that's what bubbly, cheerful, brave people get when they die.

It's just not enough.
What they deserve is life; to be going on doing all the things that we loved and knew she loved doing.

Goodbye Slinky. We never met you and I, face to face, but you were one of the few good people I'm honoured to call "friend".

I'll miss you.