Saturday, 10.01.2016 - 11:27 am.
I have two very important things to talk about today.
One, I'm going to leave Dland. Not right now, but soon...I guess. It's something I've thought about for years but this place has LITERALLY half of my life in it. And yet, this place offers no way to back that up or download the content. This is what keeps me here. No way I'm hell I'll stop having a diary, and I can have it anywhere else, but the history, man. I don't want to lose it nor stop writing about as it is being built.
A few years ago, I had this scare that Dland had closed down, and my good old, tech-savvy friend Angel -one of the one or two real-life friends who knew about my diary when I started- got all my entries, each in html format, in a zip file. Since then, every entry I write, I download it as such to my hard drive. At least they're with me (still unreliable, to me, everything digital is somewhat unreliable), but there isn't a way to import them to, say, Wordpress, which is where I've signed up. It's the same username as this diary, but I'm a bit scared because I run it from the same account as my very public blog. Thus, at least for now, it is access by request but don't be shy and come visit! I'll have both my entries here and there for the time being, as Anna does. Another reason why I don't want to leave Dland: privacy. Dland is entirely public and yet invisible*.
(*There is a long conversation to be had as to why, if I write such personal things and don't want them to be read by people who know me, I write these things online. The short answer is that I can't explain why myself but I feel compelled to keep going.)
So, hey, I found an interview with Andrew (Dland's Andrew, Andrew Smales, I've learned, not Andrew my husband). It's from 2013 so at least he's not dead and perhaps this site won't go down anytime soon, but also it doesn't sound like he gives a shit if it does. Or he might, but calls it an era that has ended so this site may also be going nowhere. Which is just as well, I suppose, you could hardly revamp this site without losing the simplicity, privacy and judgement-free small-neighborhood feel that drew many people in in the first place. A way to do entry back-ups and exporting would be good, though. Andrew sounds decent and funny, but hasn't he always sounded like that.
So that's that for number one. Still not moving yet, but since I like to start things on the first day of each month, this first of October is for making the commitment of moving out of here. Eventually*.
(*Hey, this is a subplot of the story I'm writing, AF, except the character is talking about his city, not his online journal. I'm down to 127 pages, mostly because I'm learning how to substitute empty sentences like "he was happy" with half-page paragraphs that describe physical reactions and event-related thoughts that one may experience before, during, and after a strong state of positive emotion. Fuck me being lazy with words and let the reader arrive to the conclusion that the character is happy, I say. If I'm learning something from my PhD studies, it is this).
Ok, second important thing to talk about today, and I should be brief because this entry has been going on for too long already:
Two weeks ago, I dreamed that fucking Joseph and I were together, man. Hugging and cuddling and such. I quickly forgot about that in the morning when I got out of bed. The dream didn't freak me out and didn't keep me reeling. It was a dream with someone who, on October 18th, will have been removed from my life for eight years. Our relationship lasted half that time.
This week, however, I caught myself thinking of him. Rather than thinking, feeling for him. I missed him, I missed him horribly, and felt as in love with him as...well, as I always have. I even thought about accepting his FB request from a few years ago, just to try to at least be on good terms and feel like I have some control (over what, I do not know). Then I thought that wouldn't be fair to Andrew (Andrew my husband), this disease-like aspect of mine is not fair to him. I tend to fantasize a lot about Joseph when I remember him, but because he remains frozen in my memory in a certain way. I have no way of knowing if that certain ways still exists.
I mean, of course there is a way to find that out. Following him online. In the best case scenario, when I do this, we get back in touch, have a quick hello and an awkward conversation and then we fall silent again, perhaps forever, like Rosetta and Philae on the comet. In the worst case scenario, he either blocks me right away, or he doesn't and around Christmas I come across a creepy post like that one I saw, of him polling his friends about which dress looks sexier on his wife who is posing for the camera (I mean, yikes), and I discover he thinks it's funny and fair to use the word feminazi. None of these options are particularly appealing to me, thanks.
You see, the image of him that my brain produces now is so pure. It is the image I saw in my dream, a scene in which this handsome guy puts his arms around me, and loves me with all his heart, and I can hear that when I put my ear on his chest that feels like home to me. Hell, I already have that! I'm in a marriage that is like that. I mean, shit, we have our mundane routines and fights, but that lovely scene is also present, frequently. What happens is that my brain seems to be taking up the habit of replacing Andrew with Joseph while I'm unconscious.
I know that image of Joseph and me is not real. It may have been in a past life but it isn't anymore. I give myself permission to miss it, to still mourn for him, to be in love with him still, or the version of him that remains in my head. The relationship ended because he wanted to, but in my mind and heart I kept going. It's not that I'd change what I have now to get back with him, I wouldn't. Even during my most rabid daydreams about him, I'm aware he is a fantasy not worth pursuing in real life. I have all I ever dreamed of having and more*.
(*Except a dog. I hate not having a dog.)