I've written this post about a thousand times. Well, maybe ten.
In my head, this Dear John letter is pure poetry, but every time I try to put it to paper, it never sounds the way I want it to sound. It never says all the things I think it should. Plus, when it comes to quitting: I'm sort of notorious for changing my mind.
(It might be useful to play the video below... Go ahead: press play. I'll wait.)
My mind is made up now...
When this idea started, kicked off by the Kid, turned to reality by me, I never imagined anyone beyond he and maybe two friends would read it. In all honesty, I doubted even he would. Which he didn't, at least regularly: but that's okay.
Turns out, I loved the anonymity of type-type-typing into what I thought was an abyss. Turns out that abyss was ironically crammed with people like me. All of us, alone, waiting for the echo of our words and being surprised by the voices that bounced back -- voices which were not our own, but something different, someone different, someone...
This blog saved me in measurements only a small few will understand.
That small few might be large now, but for me... It meant a small circle of random women and men who collided at one time in one perfect space. Their stories, my stories: they became a mix that made for a perfect concoction in that one long, awesome moment. Their words, these people got me to go deeper inside my head and in equal parts, let me get outside of my head...
I am so grateful!
In May, I'll be featured in another one, Torn. (I hope you'll read it.)
My kids are becoming old enough to have experiences that aren't mine. I can't write about them in good faith anymore -- it seems uncouth and uncool. That being said, I am grateful for every inappropriate word I wrote here about them, and us, and our lives: I think I might like those words more than any of the pictures I took.
Right now, I want to write fiction and maybe, at last, the book I swore to the Kid and everyone else I would write. This does not mean that I'll stop telling my truth. I just want to start telling it differently.
I hope you keep telling your stories. I hope you keep speaking your truth...
Thank you for hearing mine. Thank you so, so much.
I've loved every bit of this.
Goodbye from PostPicketFence and the Three Short Drunk People and the Kid too....
"Pack the old love letters up...
We will read them when we forgot why we left here."
13commentsBrilliant Person Wrote...
Maybe blogging was a tool in your toolbox, ya know? A way to find footing and gain confidence so you can move on to the kinds of writing that you're more deeply passionate about.
I think we write posts like this, goodbye posts, so many many times and hesitate to even quit in the first place because this blogging thing is all about connection. And we didn't know that at first and then the connections are very real and it feels like a sad goodbye. Because it is.
You'll be missed! But of course I know you'll always rock the writing party, wherever you put pen to paper. Er...fingers to keys.
Peace.
Welcome to the other side my friend. It's weird... I feel like you and I met when our kids were in the same preschool class and now they're off to college.
There is an empty space in this cyberspace now, but I know it's a transition, not an end. Wishing you all the best as you ride on to the next wonderful phase in your writing destiny. Can't wait to head down to the local Sof76 to be one of the first in line to buy that book I know will be only the first. Thank you for generously sharing your stories. You made me laugh out loud, tear up quietly, and even dream a little.
Rock on Ms. P!
I am so happy yet so sad! We must all continue to move forward and it sounds like you are taking the perfect step forward for you. Your cyber pals will follow and anxiously await your future words in whatever format they appear in.
Thank you for sharing so many wonderful and highly entertaining stories. And thank you to the Kid and the Short Drunk People for letting you share them.
xo
I've been toying with the idea of penning a similar Dear John letter. I just haven't found the right song for it yet. I think it's probably at the bottom of the countdown right now and it's working its way up the charts, and when I finally get in the car and have the radio on long enough to catch it, I'll know and then I'll cry "AHA!" and that will be it.
Your words have been an encouragement to me more than you'll probably ever know. You write beautifully, and that writing has made me cry from time to time. You're good people. If this were any true break up from my reality, I'd beg you to still be my friend. We don't need the weird benefits that have kind of gone along with that, but the friendship is nice.
All this to say, simply, good for you.
This is hard for me... but I understand and I am so proud of you and I admire honesty. Goodbye Miss Post Picket, I can't wait to watch you leap (and you know I am always here just in case you stumble or fall). Love.
Very much looking forward to the leap. Although I will miss you much on this side. It's a funny thing, the transition of blogging. When you start and it takes off, you can't imagine ever stopping.
Now, I slack off for months, and yet...can't quite pull the plug.
Much love to you and thank you for being such an important part of this whole experience for me. I can't wait to see what comes next for you!
xoxo
You'll never really be gone. Good memories take a long time to fade.
Carry on, Picket.
Well, crap. And I feel like I was just getting to know you too!
mazel tov. see you on the tiny island.
Gulp. This made me sad. I will miss you in this world.
I'm late to the game.
And although I know WHY you are leaving, get it viscerally, I feel sorry for MYSELF, because I love your writing.
I know I'll be reading you somewhere though. At least I'll have your books.
I've been out of the loop for months. I knew this was coming for awhile. I'm glad you jumped and hope you're enjoying life to the fullest.
I loved your writing here and over at Polite Fictions. Peace to you.
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