Back when I first started blogging, the Daily Post issued a prompt: You have the chance to write one last post on your blog before you stop blogging forever. Write it.
I wrote a reply, then, back in November of 2012, and looking back now– though it was cute and somewhat different than the other replies– it showed a total lack of understanding. I can’t imagine leaving something so trite for y’all now, not when you’ve done so much for me and added so very much to my life.
Today, I am writing my last post. The tears are slowing me down, and my hands are shaking, but I am borrowing your strength as I try to get to the important parts.
Of course, nothing is certain.
If there’s one thing you learn in the ‘sphere, it’s that. Ideal couples get divorced, terminally ill people live long fulfilling lives, coma victims wake up, and every story has a twist.
I hesitated before writing anything because of how embarrassing it would be if I was able to pop in again next week. But then I thought– what if I left without a word and really could never come back? Would my heart be able to bear that burden?
That’s why Dave will post this for me, when it’s as certain as anything can be– when it’s closer to time.
Some of you are probably very confused right now. New readers, I suspect, who never read the tales of hardship that brought me to blogging.
Some of you are probably just slightly confused– seasoned readers who thought all that hardship was past.
It’s not. It followed me along, from yesterday to today.
I don’t know what I’ll have to say about it in a year, or 10 years, or whenever– but right now, other than the heart-ache from missing you and my wonderful team at work and my family and my friends– I’m happy that it’s going to be over. It’ll be awful, and miserable, for a long time, but then it’ll be over. Little tangles of it will drag through the rest of my life forever, but it will be the end-tangles… not the knot that has kept me from peaceful sleep for years.
I’m tired and stressed, and just so incredibly ready to give up. Sometimes the benefit of fighting for truth isn’t worth the cost of winning. Sometimes strength is your greatest resource.
I’m living in that “sometimes” right now, and that’s why I’ll be giving up and going away.
I know some of you very well, and I know you want to help– you want someone to rawr at, something to squish, something to do– and I want you to know there’s really nothing you can do now. Please know you’ve already done so much just by being here and letting me shed my worries for a few hours each day.
I confess the only real worry I have now is for my family. Dave and the cats have no real resources to see them along without me in the picture. If you can check in on them, and send them love, that would be wonderful. If you can give anything so that they might have a little wiggle room in their lives, knowing that it’ll be a million and a half years before we’re together enough to pay you back– well, you can.
I can’t stop crying enough to tell you anything interesting, so I’ll have to stick to the most important things since I’m short on time:
- You are important, and you add so much to the world.
- You are beautiful, truly.
- You are talented, and deserve all the recognition the world has to offer.
- You will live your dreams if you continue to believe in them. I just know it.
- You have taught me so much.
- You have healed me so much.
- I love you. Really and truly.
Thank you so much for showing me how to keep the light of my heart on even when darkness is determined to seep in. Thank you for showing me how to find rest, even when my busy mind is trying to solve the strangeness of the world. Thank you for your faith in me.
Blessings to you, in your life and all your pursuits–