figured I'd break the streak.
Having not written in this while becomes it's own kind of addiction. Just like writing, you get used to it and feel it's necessary to rant about mundane little things on-line. Once you stop though, it too becomes sort of a necessity. You start thinking: "I haven't written in a while, so why start again?" Then you start to wonder why you were writing in the first place.
Then that all gives way to thinking that if you did start writing, would the things you have to say be worth it. Would they be worth the effort it took you to log on and type them?
That's kind of how I felt this past year living in Roanoke. I wasn't living.
Since I wasn't living, how could I record it? Recording my days there would just make them a reality somehow.
I don't live in Roanoke anymore. I'm not in Virginia any longer. I feel, I dunno.
I did a lot of thinking (it took the place of my writing). Forming actual thoughts and really examining myself. I tried it before, writing it all out. Going through the motions I guess.
Not writing, but still be introspective did me some good. I'm more grown up that I thought I could be. I'm more quiet and reserved. I have been a little, self-centered shit.
I have hurt people for no other reason that I could. Or I didn't care enough to not hurt them. Or worse than all of these, I hurt people because I didn't know I was doing it. There are women, truly wonderful women who have shaped me. While I can say it was a honor to have dated them, and I would have to say, ultimately, it was probably to their detriment to have dated me.
Shameful that I couldn't find myself or grow without hurting and breaking down others. Shameful that that's how it all happened. I see all the mistakes laid out behind me now. Hindsight cliches and so forth.
I want you all to know I'm sorry.