It feels strange, writing here again after so long.
It kind of feels like finding an old favorite t-shirt in the bottom of a drawer that you had forgotten about. Pulled from its hiding place under your swim trunks and ratty gym shorts, the familiarity of the cool cloth against your skin feels both comforting and foreign. When you slip it over your head and pull it down, smoothing out the wrinkles as you go, you breathe deep the smell of your forgotten go-to shirt and think...
... Man, this stinks.
So there you stand, torn between taking off the shirt in favor of something that doesn't smell like the inside of a dirty thrift shop and just dealing with it because you used to love this shirt. On one hand, you could put the shirt back in the drawer and let yourself forget it's even there, occasionally bumping into it as you rummage for something every now and then. Or you could just wear it, remember how comfortable it is, and wash it a few times to get rid of the smell.
Would the smell ever come out? you wonder. It's been so long since I last wore it. Do people even wear shirts like this anymore?
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you wonder, assuming that people do wear t-shirts like your old favorite, if you are the kind of person who would wear one anymore. A lot of time has passed, so many things have happened that have changed parts of you that you can't really remember what it was like before. It used to feel like a second skin, just as much a part of you as anything else. Seeing it on yourself now, an expression of self-doubt on your face, you feel like an impostor.
You may teeter on the edge of the decision for a while, but eventually you have to land on one side of the fence or the other.
Fuck it, you say. This is my shirt. My favorite shirt. I'll wear it if I want to.
So this is me. Wearing, albeit metaphorically, a shirt that I haven't worn in a very long time. Yeah, it smells like a rack of funeral suits at Goodwill, and yeah, it might not fit me the best anymore, but there was a reason I kept it around.
I loved it.
So what if people don't blog as much anymore. I didn't start blogging because everyone else was doing it. I started because I needed a place to put the shit that circles around in my head. Over the past eighteen months I've shared it (all except the really weird shit, of course) with The Boss (my wife, you may remember). I'm sure she's heard quite enough.
Will this be the triumphant return I've been thinking about for a while? Or will this be the sequel that everyone so desperately wanted until they finally saw it and realized they'd be better off having never seen it (I'm looking at you, Phantom Menace)? We'll have to wait and see.
So far, though, it feels good. Just like I remembered it.
Happy Monday, folks.