I’ve been meaning to write. I’ve needed it.
It’s good to be back. I’ve held so much in, withdrawn, rescinded, faded away… My site became a dog’s breakfast as my third party hosting website for gifs and media linked in my previous posts (which added much needed and appreciated context and sidebars, even if just for me) suddenly stopped offering free third party hosting. Very devastation. Such overwhelm. Wow.
It is what it is. I am what I am. The anal part of me wants to go back and fix every single post before this one, find a new third party hosting site to relink each post. I’ll erase your memory of my crashed shitty site with a flash, like the Men in Black mind eraser.
Alas, my lazy wins over my ambition and here we are. Not a finger lifted. Could not be arsed.
I emerge 6 months after going private. What inspired me to go public again? To put myself out there?
Netflix. Curses *shakes fist*
This quote from a movie called 5 to 7 the late Anton Yelchin starred in resounded in my brain the moment I heard it. And now I’m back… from outer space…
I had a long time to consider the value of memory, and the idea that just because something doesn’t last forever doesn’t mean its worth is diminished. Maybe it was just a rationalization – easier on the soul than mourning what might have been – the life unlived. I honestly don’t know, but I chose to believe in memory. I chose to believe in her. I chose to believe that the bond was never broken and that we carried each other in our hearts. As a secret singularity. She made me a writer.
There would be other loves. Even great loves.
I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, or a bad one. But I will promise you this. Your favorite story, whatever it might be, was written for one reader.
This blog is my favorite story. The one of me, and my life I’m living. Real time. Perhaps it has some too-long pauses in between breaths. But it has to be my favorite, because it is mine.
I’ve wanted to reach out to you. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Like the lyrics of the Maroon 5 song, the weight of the things that remained unspoken built up so much, it crushed me everyday.
You may not embrace me with the same open arms you once had as I appear before you in blog form with the same open heart, wounded, yet alive with purpose. Sunshine comes to all who feel rain.
I begin a new chapter, and with it, picking up this blog again. In my absence, don’t doubt my desire. It’s always been there. Burning. Aching. Yet repressing out of necessity. Until it was clear.
I will be leaving Seattle in September, selling my lovely little condo, and moving to southern California. I have accepted a new position in Redondo Beach, CA. The move brings me closer to family and friends, and presents new challenges and learning opportunities.
I remind myself:
1) My dream doesn’t have an expiration date. Take a deep breath, and try again.
2) You are allowed to be both a masterpiece and a work in progress simultaneously.
3) To exist is to change, to change is to mature; to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.
4) I’m not lost. I’m on a road with no destination. I’m just driving with hope that I’ll find a place that I like and I’ll stay there. I’m not lost. I’m on my way.