Yesterday, I found myself at a 'board game cafe/bar' (a fascinating business), sipping tea and playing board games with a beautiful and brilliant young woman whom I have been dating for the last couple of months. We share a passion for writing, and, eventually, our conversation turned to blogs. She asked me where she could find mine, and I hesitated. On the one hand, I wanted to show her my bona fides; on the other hand, there are a few posts on my blog that say some things about me that I would rather she didn't know.
My hesitation was only momentary as I knew that she was capable of seeing past a few character flaws to the person that I really am. I told her how to find my blog, and I explained my apprehension regarding her viewing certain posts. At this point, the obvious question was posed: Why not simply delete the posts that make me look bad?
In answer to this question, I gave a thoroughly unsatisfactory evasion. But now that I've had some time to think about it, I think that I can give this question the answer that it deserves. And where better to address it than on the blog in question?
You see, for the past year or so, it's been dawning on me just how fleeting life is. We live, we die, and most of us don't leave behind much to show for it. I realize that, one day, gamespot will update their site, or a server will go offline, or I'll leave my account inactive for too long, and my blog will ultimately be deleted anyway, but I can't help but feel that, in a way, these words are more permanent that I am.
A month from now, I'll have had new experiences and learned new things. Millions of cells in my body will have died and given way to newer ones. In innumerable subtle ways, I will be a different person then. Every stupid post and typo is a monument to someone that I was on the way to being the person that I am. I don't have the right to delete or edit anything that I wrote a year ago, because it no longer belongs to me – those expressions of sorrow, anger and carelessness belong to someone that I have no right to forget, even if it would be convenient to do so, at times.
Basically, I don't delete or edit my posts because I like to tell myself that the truth of my existence is etched in stone. The fact that this is clearly not the case is merely a minor detail.
And bearing in mind that this post will never be deleted or edited, I have decided that I need to say the following: I am a kinky freak, and so are you, Monita. You made the summer of 2014 unforgettable. But what I will remember most about you is not your touch or your words; what I will remember – until the day that senility takes me – is the joy in your face as you sat in a coffee shop, with your ridiculous pink scarf, and spun the tale of Eddy Lizard and his family of crime. That kind of passion will carry even the most average of people a long way, and you are anything but average.
Keep believing in your dream, Monita, and I'll keep believing in you.
...Oh, and keep Icarus away from Squinevere. I fear that that encounter would go badly for both of them.