Farewell And Remember Me

Well. This mythically nostalgic kid still has some of the old magic left it seems.

After neglecting and mistreating this place for years (a decade if we really want to nitpick about my lack of output and involvement), I find a prick of sadness knowing it will be disappearing. My lack of activity here would logically say I can’t get too upset about losing something I barely acknowledged the existence of anymore. But logic doesn’t play a part with things like this.

Part of me is proud knowing my diary theme/background has been the same since I started it. Even my diary description hasn’t changed much. It still includes what was the original text: "I am a boy to a man, holding in my hand all that I have to offer you, and that is my words and my mind. Now, if you wish not to accept this offering I sacrifice for you, then… whatever. Otherwise, proceed and read to your extent if my words find you pleasure. Good day to all!" I didn’t have the heart to change the rest after I went half-assedly AWOL. I sorta wanted to preserve the past.

I’m going to miss this place being here. I always came back to write here when I felt something truly personal. Possibly because it would receive the fewest readers. More likely, because it was home long before life got in the way of who I am. Somehow, writing here felt somewhat like prayer. A place to express thoughts with a non-judging God who knew you better than anyone else.

Also, this place reminds me of a time when feelings like that still felt legitimate. I liked that time.

To think I won’t have this place to run to… I guess just removes another piece of me. I lost a stuffed animal I had since a very young age. I always said Scruffy would be the first thing I’d save in a fire, but ironically it was the one thing I forgot in a hotel room (I assume that’s where I left it). Losing Scruffy was an iconic loss of childhood worthy of the Wonder Years (or Citizen Kane if we wanna go all the way). To this day, one and a half years after, I still dream of finding Scruffy again. At this point, I often remind myself in the dream, "This has happened before. This is certainly a dream." All this to say, losing Open Diary doesn’t come close to losing Scruffy… but it’s a piece of the puzzle.

I want to say proper farewells to the people I grew with here. But most of them don’t even read here anymore. And I have outside contact with those that do. I wish I could go back in time and say goodbye to the others. Maybe I could still leave a note, in case they come back. Regardless, you all played a positive role in my life. I don’t know if any of it did any of us any good, mind you. I’m just glad it was here. Most people would hate their formative years being documented in such a way. All of you know I am not one of those people. Having all my mistakes, pain, anger, confusion, and beauty set down like a historical record is priceless.

Hell. We aren’t dying, are we? Then again, "we" are merely the identities we’ve come to know through each other’s entries. So, with the death of these diaries comes the death of the "us" we’ve become. So yeah, it sort of is death. As much as a character in a novel at least, which clearly effects human emotions, so why not real-ish characters?

I wish I had created some beautifully constructed amalgamation of all my past entry styles into this final one: quotes from songs or myself in italics, using words like "friendshit" "hey yo" "mantastic" and "situ," waxing on about girls I love or find the secret beauty in, survey answers, maybe some vague references to events or thoughts… and of course, good old fashioned self-deprication. For the same reason I didn’t write here much the last many years, I didn’t have the energy or focus for it.

Oh god, I am deliberately delaying the finishing of this. As hard as a heart can be (or attempt to be), it stays soft. And as always, I don’t want to say goodbye.

But you know what?

"It’s difficult to say goodbye after only one life…"

Oh yeah. Still got it.

"And this burning tree that’s withering will bloom again, would you believe?
It’s time to say "fare thee well" to life as we know it.
My voice it will be, you know I will be, yes it will be still.

Goodbye, goodbye. Walk away, it’s time to say goodbye.

I never took the time to stop and realize that death takes many forms even while alive."

Thank you all.