It seems that I have spent a majority of my literate life with the intentions of keeping a diary/journal of the goings on in my little life. The idea behind keeping chronicles of what is sure to be one of the lesser interesting of the passing mists that have existed in the history of time is simply for my own record, to look back on my maturing thought processes and emotions in response to whatever life throws my way and attempt to learn from them. Perhaps my children or grandchildren can glean some understanding and wisdom from the results of my stumbling through this life. Maybe it will simply save me the cost of a shrink…
I recall my early years of lamenting the death of a cat, unrequited crushes on boys and the annoyances called my brothers. Once I had my first boyfriend late in high school, these ramblings turned towards the highlights of the good and bad of first-loves. College killed any desire to write or read for pleasure as I was spent on simply doing that which was required and derived no pleasure from the recreational. Then I met a man I really liked and turned once again to the highlights of the good and bad of the relationship with the evolution of writing my thoughts as if to him directly. I ventured into the world of blogging at long last. My newfound love of running opened me to a community in which to share and share I did; of running and a little of life. Eventually, the letters I wrote to and about the man I gave my heart to turned ever sour and I began to chronicle my individual experience of personal shame and divorce. Concurrently I discovered the delight of written banter with an intriguing character. Often I berated myself for relishing the next e-mail, in an age so dependent upon digital media and virtual relationships. So many expose themselves to a much greater extent that they would be comfortable doing in real life, feeling secure behind the false safety of avoiding personal interaction and therefore first-hand rejection. Yet I continued, taking comfort from the fact that I had at least met this man first in person and spent a decent amount of time in which to build a small foundation of friendship and trust. Being that this man also lived hundreds of miles away, only a few avenues of communication were open to us with texting and actual phone conversations not being on the allowable list at the time. As my once carefully put together life began to unravel, those avenues were opened and the written (or typed) fell to the wayside for a while again, just as in every past phase of my life.
Now my life is on the mend and my intriguing pen pal is my best friend and the man I am giving my whole self to for the rest of forever. I feel that the meanderings of my mind through the hard times should not overshadow the times of joy and happiness. For this and many other reasons, I will attempt to maintain a loose schedule of writing for the years to come. First and foremost I want to remind myself of all the blessings God has bestowed upon me despite my many failings. Next, I want a record to look back upon or share with my wonderful man, allowing him into my mind and heart, exposing the places that are not always accessible in a verbal form. Third, I wish to enlighten our children, when they are old enough, of the trials and joys that stem from living in split homes and blended families, so when they are old enough they can truly know just how loved they are. Lastly, if anyone is to find any worth or entertainment in my ramblings, so be it.
