My little blogging buddy, Carmen
A few months ago I reconnected with a blogging friend of mine. I'll call her J until I have confirmation that I can name her on my blog. (Email me, J!) We both used to blog quite frequently and both of us have since petered out. I made my blog private for a while because I felt I was done. But since reconnecting with J and exchanging a few emails, I've decided to give it another go.
No one reads blogs anymore, anyway, right? So no big deal.
Quite frankly, 2014 was the most challenging year of my life besides the year I was divorced and the year I was almost killed by a truck while riding my scooter. So if that says anything at all, you'll know how difficult it's been.
Maybe I'll blog about it. Maybe I won't. The most I will say right now is that I lost hope in something for which I had been reaching my entire life. My heart dried up and cracked, then crumbled into dust, pebbles, rocks and boulders, leaving me buried beneath the rubble. I just laid there for a while, letting the dust settle, feeling the grit in my teeth. If I breathed too deeply, the dust flooded my lungs and choked me. Just resting seemed like the best thing to do.
An efficient, businesslike Kate took over and ran things for a while. She does a good job, that Kate. She works and cleans and cooks. She runs Facebook and Instagram. She remembers to document the happy times so I can revisit them later. I like her quite a bit. She helps me figure things out.
After a while, the business Kate went searching for the real Kate. The authentic one. The one who can feel things, who can laugh and cry, who can share both the bad and the good. She went searching with a flashlight and prodded through the rubble until she found me. She held out her hand and I took hold.
Here I am again. The authentic Kate. Like two parts of me have been put back together.
I should apologize for not being authentic. It's a quality I cherish in people. Yet I can't apologize. I simply wasn't capable of being more than who I was last year. Instead, I'll thank you. A few of you knew what was going on. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for letting me cry and keeping it private. I feel ready again to share myself with the readers who happen to find this.
See you in 2015, friends of the blog.