Being evicted is always hard and the longer you have been in a place, the more friends you have made and come to rely upon there, the more painful it is.
But that is the way the world does work, apparently even the ether-world, and here I am.
I don't know that I have the heart to start over. I was there since near the beginning, fifteen years. Over those years I came to rely heavily on the site, confessing things to stranger-friends I couldn't / wouldn't tell anyone I knew, anyone "real."
I've journaled for over forty years, decades of life put into words, first on paper and then into thin air, the record of who I was and who I wanted to be. When Katrina ate my house whole it took the paper diaries, thirty years of recollections and retellings gone to mush in a mouldering house, those decades now completely erased, chopped up and churned into a landfill somewhere.
But I had the site.
The site saved the few years that were writ in electrons instead of ink.
And I started over.
Over. Now the site is over. I have just enough time to download the past fifteen years and move them to higher ground
And, perhaps, I will start over
Again.
No promises. Just a weary
Maybe.
Loading comments...