It’s getting really late on a Friday night. My eyes are shot from hours and hours spent on a screen today, this week, this past year. I don’t know what made me come here, so late, when I’d just decided I could not read a single other application file, but for some reason I did come here and for the last hour I’ve just been reading random posts. Posts from 9 years ago, 8 years ago, 6 years ago. Posts from every year. Reading all the comments. All those beautiful, smart, kind, supportive, loving, angry-at-all-the-right-times, holding-each-other-up comments. And god, how I miss it. The connection. The friendship. The feeling that we all understood each other and that there was always someone there to call back through the long night at you: “You’re not crazy.” “We know.” “She was beautiful.” “She shouldn’t have died.”
We were so good to each other. We took such good care. There were women here who I knew. Women who knew me better than most of my family and ‘in real life’ friends. Women I still think of, and wonder about, and hope the best for. Reading all those comments again, I remember the stories, the care we gave each other, the total acceptance of all the ugly, rage-y, necessary parts of grief, the love we spread round when someone needed it, and when didn’t someone need it? The internet really has been good for something.
No one reads here anymore (why would they when I don’t actually write haha) but just in case you were here back then and you ever come back, please know how much I miss you, how much you’ve meant to me, how much I needed you, how grateful I am for all we shared in this space that feels almost sacred to me now. A space she occupied when she could occupy no other. A space we made together, holding each other up. Thank you.