That Post That Every Blogger Writes Eventually

The trajectory of a blog is rather knowable, as it happens. One senses the ebb and flow. As a serious reader - and a pretty conscientious contributor, for a decade, give or take - I'm rarely surprised when the light dims in one of our metaphoric spaces. And it's rarely without a considerable degree of regret that I say good bye to one of my long-time blog friends.

I'm not much of a mover-on. I've managed to invest myself in every loss I've ever felt, at terrible personal cost, I might add. I hold fast. I do not give up. And, damn, I love to talk. Good conversation is my drug of choice. It's the thrum that underpins everything for me. And writing is its right-hand man. To those of you who also write, I don't need to speak of its delicious pleasures. What is more wonderful than words that hang together?

Which is why I find myself in the most absurd of situations - about to draw the curtain on a decade of community. I've hesitated to commit to this for weeks. I knew, when I took the new job, that my responsibilities would be upended for a period of time. But I've also felt for months that my life has called upon me, ever more, to Be Here Now. My kid needs me, my job needs me, my house needs me. My husband needs me. And I need space. The truth is that I have as much to say as ever (for which I am so grateful), but I have no time to say it (when I have energy) and no energy to say it (when I have time). At at some point, one needs to recognize that the virtual - though as real as anything real - cannot be prioritized.

I want to say - and this is not a platitude - that I care tremendously about you. Not "you", as in a spectrum of generalized readers. I mean you. You have heard me. You've commiserated when things have been truly hard. You've shared my joy and successes so many times over. You've taught me lessons - metaphoric and practical - and you know I love to learn. You've shown me wisdom when I've been at my wits' end. You've indulged my ego. You've kindly set me straight.

You are not an abstraction. My husband probably knows you by name - well by blog name, that is. Your feedback shows itself in the clothing I wear daily, in the crafting that comes a close creative second only to my writing and communicating here.

It seems likely that I'll reclaim this space again. Lord knows I intend to when the opportunity presents itself. But it won't be what it has been - it never is. It won't be the thing I've dedicated myself to, multiple times a week, for a decade, unceasingly. So I want to acknowledge this loss. I want to acknowledge what this place has meant to me and what it will always mean to me - a sign of  commitment and creativity which brings community - my greatest joy. It's the place where I have come to know you and to be your friend. So thank you very much and much love. I mean this sincerely.