Imaginary Browncoat Friend?

I lost a very dear friend this week. His name was Jamie. I had never met him. I am quite aware that seems strange. I can't really explain to family and "real life" friends why I am so upset, so absolutely and totally devastated by this news. The truth is, despite us having never met, I felt closer to him than I did to a lot of people I see all the time. 


Let me try to explain. In 2004 I discovered a T.V. show called Firefly. I was a big fan of the writer and had really enjoyed his other T.V. shows, Buffy and Angel. I had lent the Firefly box set from my cousin, who had told me it was amazing. I was curious, but wasn't sure how good it would be. The show blew my socks off. I watched every episode in the same day, and was desperate for more! So, I went online to find out if there was a second series, or plans to make it. What I found was something incredible - not only was there going to be a movie - Serenity - very soon, but I also found a forum full of posts by people who, like me, had found Firefly and loved it. I stayed. We talked. I joined the Firefly chat room. We talked more. These people were awesome! They were called "Browncoats". (The Browncoats in Firefly/Serenity were basically the guys on the losing side of the war - the good guys.) We talked every single day for days, weeks, months, years. Most of us are still in contact now, even though the forum was closed a few years ago. We still reminisce about "chat-that-was" (a term from the film, "earth-that-was" as it was set in the future after the earth was destroyed). We use Facebook, MSN, email and other online ways of chatting. There has been snail-mail, care packages, international chocolate swaps and lots of other contact. Many of them have met up, attended "shindigs", conventions, visited eachother. I have been visited by a couple of people, but being a not-so-well-off single parent, I haven't really had the opportunity to go visiting. I have sent British chocolate to Australia, New Zealand, America, Europe, and many other places. (We even had a "Yorkie" thread on the old forum, where girls from all over the world would post photos of themselves eating the "Yorkie" chocolate bars that say "NOT FOR GIRLS" on the wrappers.) In times of joy, in times of sadness and every other time in between, we share news with eachother. We've seen photos of eachother's babies minutes after birth, talked about the most profound and personal things in great detail, got to know eachother - the real us - because when you talk online to someone for a long period of time, you don't have the same reservations that you have to have in real life. You can talk openly about anything. People accept you for who you are. I can't tell you how much these people have meant to me over the years. They've been there for me when nobody else was there. They've prevented me from complete isolation, by being there when I need them most. When I really needed to talk, Browncoats were always there. They still are. I'm pretty sure they always will be. 


So I hope that explains to you a little bit why for me, my friend's death was so devastating. I cried for two days. I am crying now, as I type this. Jamie was a very happy soul. He wasn't always okay but he was always positive. No power in the 'Verse could stop him being cheerful! He made me laugh when I wanted to cry. He listened to me when I needed to talk. He shared his thoughts, his opinions, his jokes, his wicked sense of humour. He was such a special person. We talked a few days before he passed away. We were talking about how he had once visited the town in England where I live, and some day planned to come back here for a visit. We decided we'd meet up and go for a drink. Him and his partner, me and mine. It might have even been next year!


That will never happen now. He will never visit England. He won't be laughing at my silly British accent any more. No more jokes. No more flirting. No more Jamie. He's gone. I can't believe it. I don't want to believe it.


On 31st January, I saw him come online. I was just about to say hi. Then his girlfriend sent me a message. She said she knew him and I were close and she wanted to let me know he had passed away. I thought at first it was another one of his evil jokes. That he'd wait a few minutes and then say "HAHA Not really! Gotcha!" I waited. I hoped. I even prayed, yes this heathen girl even prayed. It never came. I clicked his profile on Facebook. So many messages. So many sad people. He was really gone.


I know if you're reading this, you already have an online presence, so some of  you might just understand that you don't have to know someone "in real life" to actually know them. To actually love them. I loved Jamie, and I will miss him. Maybe not every day, not after a while - but I will miss him and I will want to share things with him but he won't be there. I have been lucky enough to have not really lost many people I care for, other than grandparents and my cousin who died in her 30s. But this hurts just as much as losing family. We are a family. A happy, loyal Browncoat family.


I wonder if Joss Whedon realised, when he was writing Firefly, that he would be responsible for the huge bond that his fans share. I know we're not the only Browncoats who are close. Many, many people all over the world have travelled to meet up with other Browncoats. I am so happy to have "met" these people and am very thankful to Joss for his part in that.


I'll miss you, Jamieface. Keep flying my friend. They can't take the sky from you now. <3 x