The Marc Jacobs and Jason Preston break-up has been très tragic for the two of them, but quite amusing for those interested in another form of meta-reality after this week's très boring Parisian Hills. The two of them are sort of famous, so we can delight in their misery, but since they're only sort of famous, they use Facebook just like the plebs. And their respective relationship mini-feeds are the stuff of pure Web 2.0 tragedy. (Click to enlarge the image)

Why anyone would enter a Facebook relationship is a mystery of human nature. Sure, there's some joy in the beginning, when your names pop up in the mini-feed with a small heart, alerting all your friends (and more importantly, random acquaintances) that you are capable of love, and of being loved by someone else, preferably someone who photographs well. And what joy those first few weeks are, what with old friends inquiring publicly on your wall about your love life.

That feeling wears off after a few weeks. Soon enough, that person becomes just another outclick on your profile. And you start to wonder, "do the people quietly stalking me care about me, or just care about judging my relationship?" No longer "interested in random play," you start to think about all the late night searches you've been excluded from, and all the awkward sex with strangers you've missed out on.

You start going out less, you're tagged in fewer pictures together. Sure, that Saturday night you stayed in and ordered Chinese food and watched Garden State was all right. But sometimes you miss hanging out with your friends and poking other people. You start to wonder if your Facebook profile is defined by your relationship status, if your relationship has taken over your life. Things start getting complicated, but you can't say that. Sure love is complicated, but there's no reason for everyone to know that your love is complicated.

Eventually, you're just miserable. You've heard every story and know every Facebook interest. That little heart has long dropped from your mini-feed. The joy is gone. It's time to break up. And then it's time to Facebook break up. A broken heart appears beside your name. And you're ashamed. Maybe you never were capable of love, capable of the sacrifices that being in a Facebook relationship demands. And then you're on your own. Single. Interested in dating or whatever you can get.

This image was lost some time after publication.

Manhattan Offender" />