NOWHERE CHER

I was friends with this girl in either Junior High or High School - very briefly. She lived near me and I would walk over to her house - they had a lot of white shag carpeting and a dog to match - a beautiful Samoyad - perfectly coifed. In the living room they had a glossy white grand piano and I would sometimes accompany her - doing her best impression of Cher. She would wear a halter top and hold her arms just like Cher, hands dropping, belting out those A side and B side tunes. She had a nice voice which she disfigured singing through her nose to get those Cher-like tones. The few times I was over I never saw an adult anywhere. The house was silent, almost padded (due to the sea of shag) until she filled it song. I still remember how soft that dog was, perfectly coifed - I had no idea who was tending to the animal. The whole thing had a kind of Grey Gardens effect - although the inhabitant was 14 and everything was white and brand new. Just last year I got a friend request from her - some forty-plus years later, now seemingly transformed into a tragic figure. Seems she was living on the fringes of society, the posts had a distinct victim voice. Now Cher is no one's victim - so it was surprising - plus she had been a smart, kind of "with it" teen - so I was wondering how this world-view had come to be. Her son had joined the military and it soon became apparent that her lodging might be in question. She started posting items for sale - only those you part with when times are dire. A mattress, a worn coffee table, and old washer dryer all on Facebook marketplace. I could tell by her posts that she would be un-hirable - her state-of-mind would not present well at any interview. Friends would post potential job opportunities - but were always met by crickets by my old friend. One day I had posted some light-hearted thing on my page which she responded to with a "me too" comment about a near miss experience involving almost-assault and possible rape, it was really out of place and awful. I sent her a private message saying she had misunderstood - and some sorry attempt at being sympathetic around her trials which obviously fell short -she read it and never responded back. It wasn't long after that - that her posts came to a sudden halt. Weeks and months went by, her friends would post "where are you - I'm so worried about you" posts. I couldn't have been the only one who was wondering if she was living in a car, on the street, or worse. The posts from friends kept coming, people would give them a thumbs up or the crying emoji. Cher was nowhere, I assumed something horrible had happened. Until today. I saw a profile of a guy I knew in high school. He was the first guy I kissed. I was in the basement of his house, I had followed his cute, popular friend there after school - but the cute friend proposed that I kiss his shy friend and it was terrible. How could I know it was terrible, it was my first kiss, but it was. He was nervous, and trembling horribly, an icky memory - so naturally, I wanted to see what had become of him so I clicked on his Facebook profile. The guy was still "shy" - he had like 40 Facebook friends, and one of them appeared to be Cher. Only she had created a new profile, a new version of her name, stating she had moved to a new town as a Facebook event. Her old profile photo was blurred as though looking at someone through punch-drunk eyes - it was now replaced by a new, crisp photo. I wasn't sure it was her, I hadn't seen her since her teenage make-shift lounge act - but I was sure, in the end. Now, I can't claim to understand depression, or severe mental health issues but lord knows I've tried. I understand wanting to re-invent yourself, to start fresh - but what I don't understand is wanting people to think that you're homeless, living on the streets, or have perhaps committed suicide. All these friends reaching out to her on her page - and I imagine in Private Message - which she clearly got but left each and every one of them hanging while she tweaked her new/improved profile. Maybe if I tried a little harder, gave it a bit more thought I'd get there. Do I lack empathy, see it as just another story? But it's this ending I can't quite grasp - the disappearing act, the studied air of mystery, the silent reinvention - all Cher-like traits come to think of it, sans tragedy.