I Write

"Sometime, not so far from now, I may not be writing about you anymore. 

Does that scare you? It should."

 

 

I started my blog in October 2006. I was in the throws of an incredible break up and to deal, I wrote. MySpace was the cool thing back then so that's what I did. When I moved to Austin in 2009, I decided to take my blog pro - I created an official blogsite. Notes From the Red Bird House was born. Once FaceBook took off I started posting 'notes' there too. I've been more popular and less popular. For a time, I was water cooler talk in Texarkana. Now, I'm lucky if my mom reads me. Regardless, I know for a fact that my words speak. What I write matters, maybe not to everyone, but to a special few. They are the ones I continue to write for. They are why I first stood in my truth and why I continue to do so today.

 

 

I've been fond of saying that I write about a lot of things. I mean once upon a time, I wrote about 'tossing salad' (seriously). I can't even list the number of topics I've covered. That said, my most popular topic by far has been women. Every woman who has come into my life significantly in the past eight years has been a written about. And probably far more than once. I've written of their beauty, my love for them, my confusion over them, burned them in effigy, and apologized to them. Sometimes all in the same blog.

 

Most love the idea of dating a writer in the beginning when I'm waxing poetic about them. At some point, though, all that turns and they realize the risks of dating a writer who posts everything she writes. What did Anne Lamott have to say about it? "If they wanted you to write nicely about them, maybe they should have acted better." It may not be a direct quote but you get the gist.  When they break my heart, ditch me, or fuck me over, the gloves come off. I don't write vindictively and I have never ever, ever named a name. I do, however, write to heal my soul. Sometimes that healing takes the form of telling certain truths (Remember I'm not a liar). Sometimes my truth is tied to theirs. Sometimes they don't like it.

 

Until last week, I had only deleted one blog. It was about settling and a certain friend took exception to it and assumed it was about her. She was right. I deleted it. Years later she admitted that I was right and said she never should have asked me to delete it. After that, I vowed never to delete anything I'd written ever again. And then I did. I'm mad at myself for doing it. Love, though, makes me do crazy things.

 

Someday I won't write about her anymore. That day isn't today. Clearly. But it will come. I wonder what will happen then. Will she miss my attention? My musings about her? At this point, I couldn't even begin to wonder. And truthfully, that day could be years away. Hell, I just posted about a woman I first wrote about even before I officially started blogging. That's a long time.

 

In the meantime, I'm going to write to heal my soul and fill the void. As usual, I will stand in my truth and maybe mix a little fiction in just to spice things up. The only thing I am certain of these days is that if I'm writing, I'm still alive. And that, my friends, says a lot.