Checking in on one of my regular reads, I came upon an unexpected goodbye post. My initial instinct was to join in with the audience, clamouring to come up with unique ways of saying, 'no, please stay', 'say it ain't so', but then I saw that there was nothing original left for me. Still, I wondered if I should just say something, anything, to weight the numbers for a return, but instead I closed the window.
Why just drop it like that? Why can't anything feel permanent? Why does it matter so much to me? When this blogger threw 'jump the shark' out there, I drew back like I'd touched something unexpectedly hot.
I too could say goodbye on this blog today. I thought about it for a moment, but not in any sort of real way. More like the way I tease myself sometimes while waiting for the subway with the idea that I could, at any given moment, decide to jump in front of the train. I mean, people do. It is physically possible. The only thing separating me from that is choice.
If I decided to end it - the blog I mean, maybe a couple people would say, 'ah c'mon...stick around'. At least one would say, 'it is what it is', or some variation of that. I guess I'm angry at how easily I could dissapear. You'd let me go that easy. Don't get me wrong - if I thought I couldn't get away, I wouldn't be able to breath. The existence of choice is what makes things bearable.
In life and in blogging, people make their exits for different reasons. Some people go for the drama. Others worry their time is running out and they want to beat it to the punch. I'm sure there are a million more reasons. I want guarantees. I want you to say, don't worry Rachel, I'm not going anywhere. You can count on me. At the very least I want to know you'll be around for a while - long enough for me to soften my shoulders, take my coat off, and relax.