the passing of an old friend in reality

I haven't been active on Open Diary for over a year. While I still made a point to log in from time to time in order to check in on those people I had a connection with, I found the need to write to be less pressing than the need to do homework, make it to work on time or spend my free time reading. All that being said, however, when I learned today that Open Diary would be gone in a manner of weeks, it hit me like a gut punch. Open Diary has been a part of my life either actively or passively for over 15 years. I can't remember if I started my first diary in 1998 or 1999, but it's safe to say that almost half of my life has been contained on that page in one incarnation of another. As I let the news sink in and watched, in horror, the reaction of my friends, I felt a distinguished sense of loss. It truly was like losing a friend suddenly and expectantly. Even in my periods of inactivity, Open Diary was a safe place to land and reflect. If I ever felt the need to unburden myself, it's pages were open, and the community that I had built and maintained over the years was a safe place to land - mostly without judgement or condemnation. Some of my deepest thoughts were housed there, one page bleeding into the next. I went through recovery there. I explored the newness of love multiple times, and used its pages to say goodbye and move forward. I evolved. I changed. I grew. I expressed myself with a freedom that was hard to match even touching pen to paper. Not only did I gain valuable insight into myself, I gained the wisdom and knowledge of others - and that was truly invaluable. I'm sad to see it go, and it still hasn't hit home to me that, in a few weeks time, I won't be able to hit the shortcut button on my web browser and see what was happening in the world of OD, jumping from page to page of old friends or new strangers and uncovering their secrets as blatantly as I had developed mine. Goodbye old friend. Please believe me when I tell you that you will certainly be missed. I appreciate your silence and your vocalizations, and my life will truly not be the same without you in it. Rest well, and keep your secrets - as you always have done.