Well, everything's changed, pretty much. Which is about the best outcome I could have hoped for of all this midlife angst I've been experiencing the past few years.
As many of you will know, I'm a self-taught writer of fiction. I've written a good number of short stories, three of which have been picked up by an online journal with actual editors and stuff (toasted-cheese.com), and hence the proud owner of a coffee mug and two (count 'em two) Amazon gift certificates (long since redeemed, with some extra cash of my own). And a novel and a half. The November Novel (an entry in NaNoWriMo) was posted on threeducks.org as I wrote it. The Saga has had many scenes posted in my k5 diary as I wrote them, but the whole thing, as it exists in its unfinished site, is available only from me, and by request, upon securing a promise to read & critique it.
So last summer, I started writing a diary on another site, in the character of Renée, a character in some of my stories and my saga. Her grad-school experience needed more backstory kinds of exploration, so I started writing a blog-like thing in the character of a 25-year old female physics grad student. With as many issues, even at that age, as the Readers' Digest.
So after a month or two (nearly two) of writing an entry almost every day of mostly mundane stuff with the occasional Nugget of Truth, someone else who also had a diary on that site returned from a summer fling to writing angst-filled diaries about gender identity, why one can't get a job with a master's degree in English in a small southern city, and just generally Life, the Universe, and Everything.
On Sept 22, 2003, she wrote:
I've been reading Ravyn's diary here, and well (swoon), I think I'm in love (wicked grin).It was funny at the time. Now, not so much. Well, still funny in all the same ways, only also serious and fun and... but i run out of adjectives somewhere along about here.
Many many e-mails later, then adding progressively irc, the telephone, physical objects in the mail, and, wow. We really are in love. I visited her in December for a week, which was long enough to get well over the nerves and to sort out which of her cats wants his tummy skritched and which one (same black & white body model, same feet-in-the-air posture) scratches back.
She's just gone back to her place and her critters after a week's visit here. It's so wonderful to see each other in the context of our ordinary lives. And to see whether, and how, we'd fit together, if.
And we do. Remarkably well. Astonishingly well. Perhaps because of the way we got acquainted in the first place: talking about the hardest parts of our lives, in a venue (online blogs and email) where it's easier to talk about personal peculiarities & gender issues. So, unlike all my previous relationships, from the very start I wasn't hiding anything, but being myself. Carefully and completely myself, obscuring nothing. So there's really no anxiety about the other person finding out something that'll make them go away.
Anyway, she'll be back, in a month. And some of you-all can meet her then, if you should happen to be in Boston. And I'll be visiting there, a time or two or three this spring as well. And then...
But that's the material for a future diary.
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