Today is my three-year bloggiversary. I began blogging May 5, 2003. Actually, today would have been a good day to post my State of the Blog Address. Unfortunately, I posted that six weeks ago. But if you want to read sort of a summary of my blogging history, you can read that.
The difference in this past year and the first two years of blogging for me has been night and day. I thank each and every one of you for reading and commenting. Somewhere along the way, blogging has reminded me that I love to write. And that's a pretty cool thing.
I decided to do a combination Friday Flashback/bloggiversary post today. Tried thinking of my favorite post. Which led me to change up a few of the selected posts on the sidebar. I asked a couple of people what their favorite posts of mine would be. Some of the posts mentioned were Miss Nona, When two become one, My Town, and this one.
This is one of my favorites, too. I titled it "That City." It was originally posted June 29, 2005:
That city will always be her.
I have let go of the past. I have come to realize and accept what will never be. But I still remember. Everytime I drive thru that city, I am reminded all over again. She haunts the city streets. I can feel her. Everywhere.
Even before I reach the city, I think of all the times she must have made this very same trip. And it always gives me the same feeling. An odd mingling of emotions. Same place, different time.
I always wonder the same things while I am here. Where did she live? Did she walk these very streets that I am walking now? I pass a convenience store and wonder if she ever stopped there. I stop to eat at a little corner cafe. I wonder if she ever came here. And I wish that now was then. And that she was here.
The people I pass, the faces I see, I wonder if they ever knew her, one person in a sea of a million. Did the wind ever blow her hair into a mess? I imagine that it did, and I smile. Did she ever go to the movies alone? I think how that should never have happened, and it makes me a little sad.
I wonder if she ever got lonesome while she was here. She surely must have missed home. When she thought of home, did she ever think of me?
Before I know it, the day is drawing to a close and it is time to go. Leaving the city is a little bit like leaving her, losing her, all over again. Because part of her is still here, and always will be. I miss her more when I am here than when I am not. And yet I keep coming back again and again and...
I have picked up most of the pieces, the ones that I could find anyway. I have learned to live with my mistakes. I try and concentrate on the present, and the future. On what is, and what might be, rather than what will never be.
But that city... that city will always be her.
"Well I guess it's been a good year for roses and aggressions. For flowers and freeways..."