Serena McDaniels is no longer among us, and we are all worse off for it.
If you knew Ser (and who "really" knew her anyway?) you had to be on your toes, because she was a full load to handle, with her dry humor and quick wit. She was a unique person in every sense of the word, and there will never be another like her. Which is both good and bad, because while I could never stomach a pale imtation, I already miss the original
If every person who knew her from online pooled what they knew about her, we might come up with half of the story of her all too brief life. Maybe. She was a grade A enigma. I never quite knew what to believe of the things she told me about herself, but I never seemed to think any of it wasn't true, either.
We have to hand it to her, she kept us in the dark about a lot of things concerneing her real life. Even her passing was a secret until it was uncovered just recently. You would almost think she didn't want anyone to be bothered, but you know deep down it's not a bother to remember her as a friend who could bring a ray of sunshine to a dismal day.
She had a special quality about her, if you could make sense of her whims. I know when I first became acquainted with her, I didn't really know how to take her. She was truly the kind of person who grew on you as time went by. I think in my case, she became increasingly aware of the fact that I was always able to pick up on little things about her from things she said, or others said about her to get an amazingly accurate picture of her. Maybe she figured I was someone who was worth knowing better.
I cannot in honesty say that I knew her any better or worse than anyone else. We were both amazed when we learned that we shared a common interest in Hunter S. Thompson, and as such, she always got all the little Thompson-esque references I threw out in conversation. I loved her for that.
But that wasn't the only thing I loved her for. Oh no. I'm not ashamed to profess a great love for Serena, as a warm, caring friend. I wish deeply that I made clear to her while she lived of how much she meant to me. We always hope that people we care about know how much they mean to us, especially if we don't come out and say it in so many words. But I think she knew; at least in things she wrote to me over time she at least intimated that she knew. I can carry that with me.
As far as one can appreciate a friend one has never met face to face, whose sole existance came as words on a screen or on a piece of paper, she was a dear, beloved friend. Someone whose life and joys and troubles I shared, and cared about, as much as any physical real life friend.
I will not make a martyr of Serena McDaniels, tell you she was God's perfect creature. I can't do so with an honest face. She was flawed like all of us. I could not have counted her as a friend if I thought she was perfect, because that would have made her into something unrealistic and phony, and if anything else you can say about Ser, she wan't a phony. You got her her in all her wonderful, unpretentious glory, at all times. If you didn't like it, too bad for you.
She left us wanting more from her, and yet we will never get the true measure of her considerable talents. But we should remember her for what she gave to us, unconditionally and without expectation of something in return. She gave us chaos in a world begging for order, and laughter in a world which seems to adore melancholy. Please keep her spirit in a place in your heart, so that her untimely death will not have been in vain. We owe it to her, though she would never ask it. It's the least we can do for her.
So long Serena. I'll never forget you.