I still wouldn’t get rid of this blog.
I end up coming back to it eventually. Might be a month, or a year, or even longer. I actually re-read what I’ve written, and it reminds me of who I was when I wrote it. Invariably, it’s someone other than who I am now.
There’s a lot I haven’t written in here this year. Doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened, or that it didn’t matter.
I’ve done a bit of self censoring this year — mostly because I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to say, how to say it, or indeed, should I just keep my mouth shut?
I’ve quietly acknowledged the end of my friendship with Ben. Took nearly 20 years, but we’re finally so radically different I can’t find common ground. Even more, I don’t think I want to look. By this point in my life there are just a few people from the old days I still talk to. Funny how they’re not the people who were closest to me growing up. Apparently my parents were right about the kind of people I was surrounding my self with.
I walked away from a friendship with Pia — her fault, my fault, whatever. Doesn’t make her a bad person, but I also don’t regret my decision. I’ll leave that as it stands, and I may come back to it later.
I cut all ties with Cindy. That I don’t regret at all, and I’d do again in a second. It actually came down to a single question.