When relationships go awry, Facebook-style.

Zits, one of my favorite comic strips. Via here

I really love Facebook. It's a pretty fantastic way to keep in touch with people with minimal effort. I remember as a teenager, whenever I met someone awesome I'd think, "If I don't get their number (their home phone number, mind you, none of this cell phone business), I will NEVER see them again!" This, of course, was a wee over-dramatic. But that's how it used to be. At the end of the school year, you felt pressure to buy a $50 yearbook so you wouldn't forget anyone's face. Now, if you friend them on Facebook, you can ogle their face all day (but don't, because that's creepy). And it's free.

(But really, don't.)

Along with the greatness of Facebook, though, comes the weirdness. One of the most awkward things about Facebook is the relationship status. You know, the little heart icon in your news feed that tells you who's happily married, who's engaged, who's in a relationship and who's single. And of course, we can't forget the squirm-inducing "it's complicated." If that little gem's not going to get people clicking on your profile, I don't know what will.

We've all seen it happen: two happy birds find love, post a cute picture of the two of them (probably in a car), officially declare their love on Facebook ("So Andso is in a relationship with Whats Herface") and get married a few months later ("So Andso is now married to Whats Herface Andso"). You see the announcement in your news feed and you can't help but click on their profiles, gawking at their wedding pictures for who knows how long. Ah, wuv. Sweet wuv. Just melts your heart, doesn't it? And you get to be a part of it because of Facebook. Even though you barely know the people. (But that's OK, because if they don't want you doing it, they can make their profile private, amiright?)

(Thanks, Facebook, for making stalking super-easy!)

Then, months, years, maybe weeks (heaven forbid) down the road, you see something strange: the wedding pictures have up and disappeared. All of them. Not a single one left anywhere in the world. Huh. Then, the girl changes her last name back to her maiden name. Double Huh. Then, if you go through their Wall, you'll see some cryptic status updates/messages that don't explain anything but give you enough information to solve the puzzle on your own. Things like, "Some people are rotten scumbags YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE." Or maybe a slew of Wall posts from friends in this vein: "Hugs, honey. You deserve so much better!" or "Dude, let's PARTAAYYYY!"

Yeah. Awkward. AWWWWKWARD.

Facebook is all kinds of cool if your life is awesome. If you've got a kick-butt job, make tons of dough and have a hot spouse and darling children, you're proud to have a Facebook account. You want people to click on you. You're all like, "LOOK AT HOW I FREAKING RULE AT LIFE AND YOU DON'T!" It's basically the premise of every class reunion, but you get to do it every day on the World Wide Web. Sweet.

But what happens when your life takes a turn for the worse? The job went POOF, the wife ran off, the kids turned into drug lords or strippers. Suddenly, Facebook becomes a wide-open window into a world of hurt. WHAT is a war-torn person supposed to do?

Well, you shut the blinds, and QUICK.

You immediately employ some damage control -- take down the pictures, un-friend the former wife/husband and every one of their family members, change your relationship status, change your name. Maybe you even delete your whole profile and start over.

In any case, nine out of 10 times, the rest of us -- the casual friends who aren't privy to such information -- are left scratching our heads, going, "What happened?"

And nine out of 10 times, we don't find out. Such is the consequence of casual friendship.

And then, the awkwardness is multiplied by 100 when you randomly encounter them in public. You're friends on Facebook, they know it and you know it, so you have to say hi. And since you're Facebook chums, you should KNOW that something went down, but you don't know what because they never outright said it, so it'd be really creepy if you did. The conversation goes as follows:

Me: Oh hi, Susie! So good to see you!

Susie: Yeah, you too! (hug) How are your kids? How's Dill?

Me: Oh, they're great! How's ... um, your ...  mom?

Susie: ...

Somehow, this is supposed to be better than the way it was before Facebook existed. I can't see how. I'd rather be truly ignorant than faking ignorance so as not to hurt someone's feelings.

In a world where everyone can see what you're doing by simply checking Facebook, how are we supposed to cope with life's tragedies? Do we broadcast them to all our friends? Should it be announced in a note, or in a status update? Do we keep them to ourselves? Or do we completely erase ourselves off the Facebook map to avoid the drama altogether?

How do YOU handle it?

And what should the rest of us do? Ask for an explanation or wonder in silence for the rest of forever?

How do we reconcile the Information Age with tact and politeness when it comes to failed relationships?