Earlier this evening, over dinner with my friends HS & SY, this blog became the topic of conversation. Well, more accurately, we talked about the things that I've been saying here.
SY told me that my blogging reminded her of the diary entries she made from about 5 years ago, when she was going through a particularly tough time with her then-boyfriend. SY said she used to go through nights where she would just write "Pain" or "It Hurts" or "Help Me" over and over again in her diary. She said this went on for pages and weeks at a time.
That's about the saddest thing I've ever heard, and I actually was thisclose to welling up, imagining someone feeling such despair that the only cry for help was unheard, unread and unknown.
I don't know if I can go through such private grieving. Or can I?
SY told me that she flips thru her diaries every now and again and smiles at how young and lost she was, and how having a record of her experience has given her a good perspective on where she's at today, and how much she's grown from those days. Oprah, and her journals, would be proud.
Will this blog serve that same purpose for me? Will I look back at this time and remember everything and smile fondly? Will I be grateful that I documented this so-called 'moment' in my own journey? Will I be proud that I tried to do the right thing?
And more importantly, will I ever get over my love affair with that alluringly confident Verdana font?
4 comments:
What? Are you saying you are too good for Tahoma or Trebuchet or Times? ;)
Oh yeah, Verdana all the way.
RE: the diary thing, I have a couple of extremely intimate/personal diaries I kept a few years ago. Things went a lot deeper than a regular diary ever could, and when the time comes I feel lost and aimless, I take them out, give them a read, and I shake my head at how stupid I was, and currently am. Then I move on. It's a great feeling, that change in point of view.
When you just step back and see things for what they really are.
I can't say the same for previous blogs, because THOSE entries, aren't just for my eyes alone! People ... uhh.. tend to get hurt somewhere along the line. ;D
I wrote almost everyday for 11 years. They are the funniest and most cringe worthy things I will ever read in this life time. There was so much emotion bursting from the pages but I can only look back now and think "Gee, I've come a long way since". However, my journals are for my eyes only. I would die of embarassment if anyone read them. So, I applaud you for wearing your heart on your sleeve and sharing some of your most intimate thoughts with the rest of us who are not so brave.
I took out my diary from 1987-1988, read it and wiped some tears away. Man, I was young and insecure with a capital E :)
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