Seth doesn't know what to do, now that Marissa is gone.
He knows that 'gone' is such a pansy word and that he should just say 'dead' or 'was murdered' or whatever, but should never, ever say 'whatever' because he's thinking about someone being dead and 'whatever' seems just about as inappropriate as you can get. So fine. He's aware of the fact that he's a pansy, that he's completely inappropriate and about as useless as one can get and he can't think of a single way to fix either of those things bur Ryan needs him and Summer needs him and he must find a way to help.
It's not like he can mourn. Ryan needs him, and Summer needs him and they need him far more than he needs to grieve. Both his best friend and his girlfriend are completely broken and no amount of sarcastic comments and quips can put them back together. They have to do that themselves but still, he i must /i find a way to help because it's unbearable to stand there, knowing that they're thinking of her and trying their hardest not to cry while he continues to stand there, looking like a jack ass. Even if he could grieve though, he wouldn't know what to say or do. He doesn't grieve people, except when his favorite character is killed off a comic book and even then, he just joins a bunch of fanlistings to pay respects. There are no fanlistings for Marissa Cooper. Just pictures, a tombstone and the bits of her that she had inflected in people while she was alive. It is these bits of her that are keeping them from living now and Seth feels like he's walking among the dead but he'd never say so.
He's sad she died. He isn't depressed and waking up in the morning is as easy as it used to be. But he is sad. And it creeps up on him at unexpected times, when he looks out his window and sees the house that Marissa's used to live in and he see's his graduation picture and remembers the last three years and how she was a part of it, however surreal that was. He remembers sitting on a bench with her and feeling lonely and pathetic and he remembers listening to the same music as her and just feeling pathetic and he remembers so much and no matter how many video games about ninja's he plays, he keeps remembering. But he doesn't say anything, will never say anything because if he remembers and keeps remembering, he knows it is one billion times worse for Ryan and Summer and he once again feels useless and then feels selfish for feeling useless but he's always selfish anyway, isn't he? He wishes he knew how not to be, how to put everyone first and what to do when they were first and he doesn't know anything anymore, if he ever did.
Newport is still the same. There's sunshine, water polo players with shaved chests and forty-five year old women with twenty-five year old breasts. But if it's the same, why is it so different? Why are the days so long and the nights even longer? Everyone seems to be holding their breath, waiting and waiting and waiting and he's out of the loop once again because he doesn't know what everyone is waiting for. Julie Cooper is a wreck, Kaitlin doesn't even seem to be phased and they, along with everyone else, are trying to pry Marissa off of their skin. It's like she's everywhere they are, even if she's in a casket in the ground underneath them, but she is stuck to them and no matter how hard they tug, she is still there. Seth is just Seth and Marissa isn't following him around. No ghost for him, even though he thinks that would be kind of cool. But again, he'd never say so because lately he's taken to watching what he says.
Marissa is dead and Ryan moved out and Summer won't speak and Seth is still hanging out like nothing has changed even though everything as changed and nothing feels like it should and damnit, he can feel himself start to cry and it's even worse because he doesn't know if it is about Marissa or because of all the damage her death caused. He's selfish, so damn selfish, but he knew this already, right? That thought doesn't help his quiet tears and the thoughts of Marissa keep slideshowing through his head and he guesses this is his way of grieving her. He hopes that she's watching and realizes he's not cold and cruel and that her death did effect her. It just shouldn't. He cries for her and he cries a bit for Ryan and a bit for Summer and it's then he knows for sure that he must, absolutely must find a way to help.