What I mean is, I had to leave this place. I had to make sure that it wasn’t going to wreck my love, my life. What I mean is, I felt as though something was taken from me. Even though I knew it was ultimately my decision, my call, to go off that blog. Even right now as I write this, I’m unsure if I’ll end up posting this. You see, I’m now completely terrified. I’m not sure if I can even express myself the way I used to. What I mean is, I’ll always be concerned from now on. What I mean is, I’ll never be the same “I always carelessly write what’s on my mind” person again. What I mean is, this might not make any sense to anyone.
I don’t know how many times I’ve mulled over this in the past few days. How many times I’ve come back and checked my stats, out of habit and also because I like that kind of torture for myself. What I mean is, I’m word-broken right now. I’ve come back now. But I don’t think I can assure you about staying.
I never did care about the audience I was writing to. I will now have to keep things in mind. You know, just in case. What I mean is, I will now be subjected to stifling myself from talking about certain aspects of my life. What I mean is, it is unfair and it’s wave after wave of hurt. What I also mean is, I’ve cried about this. I lost something which I could’ve saved, had I only been careful. What I mean is, this is always the scenario but it never fails to shock and shatter me.
It took me about 6 hours to get this blog set up and started. I was there on that blog for 10 months. What I mean is, things can be mended in less time than you think. What I mean is, things can only be mended, and once you mend something it’s never the same. What I mean is, I lost a part of me I was nurturing all year. I wanted it to last for posterity sake. What I mean is, it gave me the most beautiful gift in the most beautiful way and I had to abandon it.
I left another blog somewhere in another time when I was another person. I deleted everything there. I let someone take what they thought and even proudly assumed they had rightly built. I let someone mangle it up and pretend that it was theirs. What I mean is, if I compared both the hurts, this, on the surface is actually nothing. What I mean is, it wasn’t about what had happened, it wasn’t something definite in this case. It was something that could happen. Endless. Not definite. Infinite.
What I mean is, this could so easily be nothing. What if it’s just all in my head? More than one of my friends pointed that out. What they mean is, I think and over-think and the strands of my thoughts so easily spin themselves around my mind that soon enough I can’t tell what’s real and what is only my imagination. What I mean is, I’ve never been good with facts, I have a tendency to forget. Sometimes I’m so slow. I say something and I haven’t understood it myself before it’s already out there. What I mean is, it’s been a few days now and if something would have to happen, there would be a sign. No, not my heart which has been jack-hammering in my chest every time someone was around. What I mean is, if this is only my anxiety I need someone to break it to me, have an intervention, anything. Calm me the fuck down. But hell, it’s so easy to tell yourself what you need to hear. No one asked me, “What now? What about your blog?” What I mean is, no one could care as much about something I cared about so much.
The funny part, (yes, there’s actually one) WordPress didn’t quite let me change my username. So even though the titles and the Dashboard belong under Sloppy Etymology now, my username continues to be what it was. What I mean is, it’s not actually funny, it’s brutal. I was asked if I would like to disable the previous blog address. What that means is, do you never want to go back? I stared at the check box for as long as I could before my vision got blurry. Finally, I left it unchecked. What I mean is, I can’t quite say goodbye yet. What I also mean is, I have a hard time saying goodbye. Maybe someday I might want to go back, I don’t want to shut the door on that. What I mean is, I’m not good at ending things which is why I would rather force someone else to do it for me.
It took me so long to get all the image and link URLs right. I altered the previous address and replaced it with the new one for every damn media item. Over and over and over and over. What I mean is, it felt like stabbing myself repeatedly. If ever there was a way of self-harm that didn’t involve blood, this would be it for me.
I guess I will try more or less to be anonymous from now on. What I mean is, those who already followed the other blog will still find out this is me. What I mean is, they will read this and feel badly for me and will ask me what happened. I will try to tell them and fail miserably at making them understand. What I also mean is, don’t ask me.
Even though this year has been the greatest, most redeeming and beautiful year of my life, I am unsure if I can hide how sad and perpetually worried I am now. What I mean is, for some it could just be words stringed into sentences into paragraphs and pages. What I actually mean is, it’s more than just that for me. If anything this blog had helped me establish myself, feel like I had found my haven, a place where I could speak my mind and never worry about the interpretations, it was beyond love. Already I talk in the past tense. What I mean is, I didn’t know where I ended and where that blog began. If you argue that I have retained all my posts, followers, stats and it’s really not much different, I have nothing to say in my defense. I still can’t bring myself to alter my Welcome page which if you read now makes little to no sense. What I mean is, this is a half-hearted attempt to come back. What I mean is, I’m not quite fully here now and I don’t know if I ever will be.