I changed my mind four times this week.
It started on the couch on Monday night when I realized that it had been four days since I last blogged and seven days until I would again. Looking at James I said, I don’t know if I want to blog anymore.
I changed my mind back on Thursday when I got punched in the jaw by a stranger at the Marina and all I wanted to do was tell you every detail. I’m fine. Jaw hurts. No idea who the asshole was.
But by Friday night, I was in a bar dancing with eight of my best friends passing around beers and being as obnoxious as possible while still looking pretty and I drunkenly told Katie, I don’t think I want to blog anymore.
Then the following Tuesday came and I was covered in the kind of happiness that only a week at the beach can bring, and I missed you again.
Since the first blog post I wrote in January 2011, I haven’t taken more than two consecutive days off from blogging. Due to that startling statistic, this blog has become more than a routine. It’s become a passion, a hobby, a release, an escape, a friend.
When I took last week off from blogging to be free from my laptop and any extra responsibility that comes with scheduled posts and filling space, I didn’t expect anything more than that. I expected the week to end and I’d just start where I left off.
But then I felt something, not unlike the whole reason behind the holiday I was celebrating.
Everything I did, I did and when I was done, I was done with it. There were no stories forming in real life and then writing themselves in my head. I was just living like the other half lives. My life was private again. No one knew exactly where I was or who I was with or what I was eating or where I was going. And I realized, why should anyone care if I come back or not?
But I missed you, too.
It’s hard sometimes and strange always: Talking to yourself on the Internet and wondering if the people on the other end are reading because they love you, or because they’re bored. Reading because they care, or because it’s entertaining. If they’re laughing with you, or at you.
No one asks me to blog every day. I just do it.
And maybe for that exact reason, sometimes I want to stop.
But then here I am, writing my life away, feeling like I’m supposed to be doing just that.
I have a feeling my mind will change again and again and again until I stop for real.
But I promise when that happens, I’ll miss you.