four years

    Four years ago, this morning, I started writing here. I was desperate for a place that was mine, no matter how hard I had to work to contrive it.
    I would love to be able to share the numbers: how many posts of only quiz results? how many photographs? how many posts in which I did nothing but moan about Nick? how many song lyrics? how many incidences of the word "fuck" or some derivative?*
    I can tell you that, as of this moment, there have been 65,968 visits and 90,146 page views. 3,231 comments since Haloscan took over BlogSpeak. Not bad considering that only 15 people have had access for the last several months.
    Four years. Four years ago I was married, just under a year away from the divorce. I weighed 60 pounds more than I do at this moment. I was sick so often, I don't know that I ever wasn't sick. And I was miserable.
    Since then: three years of wild highs and devastating lows, and a whole lot of just living in between.         Learning how to be by myself, and finding out how much I really love it.
    Two and one half years with Nick, wound around the real world.
    A year with Johnnie.
    Two dates with Dan-the-Pothead.
    Warehouse. Rugby. The problematic married guy (no, we've never met). And that love child with JT....
    Four years. I loved and gave it up. I loved and lost, twice. And then I wanted to try again, but was not permitted.
    14 days in Norman, Oklahoma, that changed my life forever.
    One job. Somehow still making ends meet (what a ridiculous phrase, considering!) on less than I make every month.
    Two apartments: one crappy basement with which I subconsciously sought to punish myself, and this one. Home. I will miss this place when I leave.
    Since I began writing here, I've (sporadically) contributed to the blog of which I was a part before this, and launched three others, and joined another, and, at work, launched two more. (Sheesh!) And I've written 7 bound journals' worth of stuff too private even for this blog. (Imagine!)
    Since I began writing here, I've met four people with whom I had a relationship that was solely "blog-initiated." One was a great love, someone that I miss so much, the missing is nearly as much as the love now. We dematerialized and walked through each other's lives, leaving behind pieces of ourselves in each other. (There's a poem there - look for it during year three of National Poetry Month in April, which will feature a great deal more of my own writing than before.)
    One is a friend-of-a-friend, with whom I've nearly nothing in common. Internet friendships are, at times, a dime a dozen.
    One is sadly missing, but springs to mind with great regularity when I hear about Buddhism or inventive vegetarian cooking, Port Elizabeth or good booze, alligators named Emily or tender souls in the bodies of men.
    The fourth is the conundrum. Reminds me of my best friend from high school, Andrew. We had one of those "I like you, you're with someone else, I'll go out with someone else, now you like me..." relationships for about four years. When the stars aligned and the rest of the world left us alone, we got our shit together for brief periods. This guy, though? We never got our shit together. Maybe there just wasn't enough time. He's cocktail sauce and evil drunk dialing. A zany guy in a Responsible Adult body. A grown-up with the soul of a child. And now he's on the other side of the world (practically), in the same forbidden place as the first one.
        This blog has been my vent, my connection, my savior when I wanted to die. Y'all have seen me through much loss and even more happiness and satisfaction and wonder. I have found friends here, and cemented friendships, too. I came to this place because of J.R., and through it I found the equally lovely, comforting, funny Molly and Betsy. The Cat had been, you know, a friend before; here, I discovered that she's also a sister, a mother, a confidant, a partner in crime (and shopping), and too many other blessed things to list. r comments rarely, but reads regularly. He knows what his continued presence in my life means. Asking Man, who has become my answer man - if only.
    The rest of you are a crazy mix. At least two have never commented and read sporadically, but I know that you know what it means for you to be here regardless. All of you. Work people and life people. If I'm not mentioning your name, it's because I'm holding you to myself...or waiting to let you to make your own space here.
    So. In sum? Love you all. Thank you for listening, and commenting, and caring. God knows how long this will last. I might not know where I'm going, but I am enjoying the view as I travel.

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* assfucker appears in 2 posts
motherfucker appears in 4 posts
assfucked appears in 7 posts (which seems amazingly high)
fucker appears in 7 posts (which seems amazingly low)
motherfucking appears in 8 posts
fucking appears in 170 posts
fuck appears in 170 posts
fucked appears in 176 posts
fucks appears in 176 posts

Is it any wonder this blog is rated NC-17?!