I did something I haven’t done in quite a while. I looked through lots and lots of old posts on the blog. It used to be one of my favorite activities, and I would do it every couple months. Every time I would find another sentence that had particular meaning to me.
This time around, I copied and pasted some of those sentences into a word document labeled “quotations” that resides in a folder labeled “journal” on my desktop. The document is over 30 pages now. It started with words of famous people. I added your words because they are meaningful to me, and I don’t want to forget them. Some of them lack significance without context, but I know what they mean, and that is enough.
This all started (looking through the blog, that is), with me trying to write a post. I have three unfinished essays also residing in the “journal” folder on my desktop.
I was trying to capture what I have been feeling lately, but I haven’t gotten it completely.
I moved last week. I packed up all of my things, drove them across town, and put them somewhere new. Somewhere I eat, sleep, shower, live.
I know we’ve had numerous discussions about “home,” and that’s what was on my mind this time, too. Or at least one thing on my mind. Especially since this move wasn't emotionally stressful like some of my past moves have been, and I wonder about it.
I also thought about how I moved everything myself. Not a single soul helped me. I’m sure there are people that would have if I had asked, but I wanted to do it alone, so I did. And even now, I’m ridiculously pleased about it. I love activities in which I don’t have to rely on others, and I wonder if that’s healthy.
While I was packing I thought about memories. Some seem to fade with time, so I keep as many reminders as possible. Or I used to, at least. This time I threw away a considerable amount. Some things I threw away because I don’t want to remember them anymore. Like a red Hot Wheels car from a former boyfriend. I used to place it somewhere prominent, where I would see it often. Some of my roommates asked about it once: where it came from, why I kept it. The only explanation I gave was “it reminds me of a time when I felt loved.” Now it just seems cheesy, so when I found it I threw it away. Other things I threw away because I don't need them as reminders anymore. Like the sparkly gift bag from my cousin Toni. I'll never forget her, so I don't need the gift bag anymore.
Reading through the blog was a similar experience. Not with wanting to throw things away, mind. But reliving and remembering. I laughed out loud at some posts/comments to posts (see here and here). My eyes welled up with tears when I thought about some of you I haven’t seen in ages. People like Nathan, Kirsten, Anona, Julie, EmPo, and others. My heart almost burst out of my chest when I thought about how I came to all of you for support when I thought I might have breast cancer. "Thanks" seems insufficient for the solace I found in you on that occasion.
Over and over again, I was reminded that we never say goodbye. Even so, I saved symbols we call "letters" that form "words" and "sentences" in a Microsoft word document that I won’t have to throw away the next time I pack or move. Then I feel like I have the semblance of something to hold onto when I can't see all of you.
Again, it seems insufficient, but thanks for all of it. Thanks for the good times and the bad. Thanks for the times that were neither good nor bad. But most of all, thanks for being my friends.