Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

It's not you, it's me.

That seems like the appropriate thing to say to explain my long absence from blogging, gentle readers. While no one tends to believe this line, in this case, it's actually true.

Things get crazy. Life gets busy. Work gets busy. But that doesn't mean we can't still be friends. I will always hold a special place in my heart for you.

You were with me from the beginning, when I was just a newbie to the blog scene, writing the first thoughts that popped into my head. You stuck by me through my ranting sessions. You felt (and/or laughed at) my pain through countless rough times.

And how do I repay you? By not paying enough attention to your needs. I knew it was cruel to deprive you of my regular postings and incredibly clever humour. But did that stop me? Oh no. I couldn't help but leave you wanting more.

"Where did you go, RPA?" you asked yourselves time and time again. "Was it something I did? If it's my fault, I want to know so I can fix it. Please, PLEASE come back."

Oh, I heard your pleas, gentle readers. And it tore me up inside, it truly did. But I was powerless to respond. Because you see, at some point in every relationship, you encounter fear: Is this working out? Where is it going? Am I happy?

And I'll be honest...for a while, I wasn't happy with our relationship. I felt pressured to be so much better than I really am, and that's hard for an underachiever like myself.

But that pressure was all in my own head. "It's been a while since you posted," I would say to myself. "You have to come up with something fantastic now to wow everyone."

"Well, I need to devote a lot of time to that," I would respond. "I'll think of something in the next couple of days and then write a post that will blow everyone away."

(insert visual of calendar pages rapidly flipping through the months, with the last two paragraphs of dialogue being repeated over and over and over and...well, you get the idea)

All of a sudden, our anniversary came up. I realized it had been a year since we last spoke. "Where did the time go?" I mused aloud. "How did I let so much time go by without sharing my wisdom? How could I be so incredibly horrible to keep that all to myself? Do I care that little about the world and its people?"

But, too much time had passed, and I was scared to initiate contact. "What if they hate me now?" I sobbed. "How can I explain myself?"

Suddenly, the answer became clear: write.

Get over yourself and do what you do best: blabber on for several paragraphs, try to inject humour whenever possible, and just post it already.

And so, as I sit here in the early morning light, with my Christmas tree casting a serene glow on presents for my family and my honey, I am reminded of why I got into this biz in the first place: to get my ridiculous issues out of my head so they can stop clogging up the way for good and useful things.

So please, take me back, gentle readers, neuroses and all. Like I said, it's not you, it's me.