16 February 2009

Blog of Yesteryear: I miss you Fictional Rockstar.

A while ago, I erased my old blog Fictional Rockstar. I got rid of every post I'd ever written, every word that I had constructed. It was a dissertation of my life, and more than anything, I wanted to see it gone. It had taken on a life of its own and it didn't belong to me. It belonged to an 'us'. You see, a year into the blog, I suddenly found myself writing to an audience of one. I wasn't just writing for myself. I was writing to and for him.

I think that the blog was as much mine as it was his. The rest of the readers? They were wonderful, but they weren't always the intended readers. In fact, they rarely were.

The words that were happy, the words that were testy, the words that weren't there?

They all belonged to him.

I couldn't change my feelings about that blog or about him. That was a very unique time in my life. One that I probably will never ever forget as long as I live. When I quit writing for good, I'll remember that blog and I'll remember to whom it was ultimately dedicated.

But then he, he to whom I had secretly given every word, every idea, every thing, changed his mind. He said, "I have changed my feelings about you. It took time, but I have changed my feelings."

I questioned his phrasing hoping that it was something that was awkwardly constructed, something that had come out incoherently.

How can one change one's feelings? I didn't believe that it was humanly possible.

I knew that feelings could change, and I had always thought of it as a passive act, not an active one. If he had said, "My feelings for you have changed. I don't see you the same way," I would have understood that. And he told me that I should do the same thing for him. Change my feelings about him. I could have as soon changed my feelings as I could have my eye color or my blood type or my ability to speak.

I didn't know that I could force my feelings into another category. Move from love to like or from like to tolerate. I didn't know that. I didn't know how to do that.

I refused to force my feelings to do anything. They changed of course, from love to sadness (with love) to disappointment (with love) to hatred (with love )and then to quiet contentment still, with love. I, however, to the end, to this day, have not changed my feelings. They have changed me.

I won't ever approach anything or anyone the same way. I'm a bit more hesitant and cautious, but I will never change my feelings. They are what they are. And they make me who I am.

Through the magic of google reader (the blog reading service), I was able to get back a year's worth of postings from my old blog Fictional Rockstar. I reread a bunch of postings last night. It was as if the reader knew which year it was supposed to store. It kept from late January 2006 right until the middle of 2007. I got to look back on that span of time and remember so many things about myself, so many feelings I used to have (and still have), and witness so much of my life that has changed, I daresay for the better.

I'm not ashamed or upset by anything I wrote or felt in those years, and I hope that one day, I'll be more like that writer--that version of me--who wrote that blog. She was a pretty terrific person, even if I didn't get that at the time.


mysterygirl! said...

"I, however, to the end, to this day, have not changed my feelings. They have changed me."

Damn. Well said.

I really don't think it's possible to change one's feelings actively. I mean, you can try to feel a certain way, but I personally haven't been able to make those attempts at change stick with any consistency.

So, yeah. I don't believe that he changed his feelings. I don't think we can control how we feel; the only thing we can control is our actions.

Essentially Me said...

You were, are and always will be a terrific person.

rothko said...

I seem to quote this song a lot lately, but this reminds me of Ani's Dilate:

everyone has a skeleton
and a closet to keep it in
and you're mine
every song has a you
a you that the singer sings to
and you're it this time
baby, you're it this time

Nearly everything I've ever written has had an audience of one whether the one has known it or not. The one continually changes, but for me, it's a pretty important part of the whole process. A lot of the time, if I don't have a "one," I don't have anything.

And if you've never heard "Dilate," find it and turn it up. You will thank me. There's a decent live version here.

Megarita said...

Ugh, what a gut wrencher. This post hurts! I agree completely with MG!, though. The feelings just are; can only help what we do, and then only sometimes!

All that being said, I like your blog better now that you're writing it for you. :)

m.a. said...

mg! I think that you are absolutely correct. I can just control my actions. thank you.

EM, You too, lady. You too.

Rothko, Thank you. I think that if I could play that song as a theme to this post, I would.

Megarita, I'm glad that I'm writing for myself as well.

Dexter Colt said...

How many times have I deleted my archives? At least 3...maybe 4. I dunno, if I ever was forced to face my past I think I would turn into a pillar of salt. So, I carry on...

rothko said...

If I could play that song as a theme to my life, I would.

m.a. said...

Dex-- I think that was part of it. I just didn't want to go back and look at the archives, but then I wished I could. And then it was like magic.

Rothko--Hear, hear. If I sit back and think about everything that I've done that's at all artistic in nature (except painting) there has been a 'you' in it.

alot, alot said...

If you think you can change your feelings, I think you miss the point of feelings and the emotional act of feeling. It is not a thought or a switch. Rather, it is a part of everything that we are.

I'll join the chorus as well - I'm glad you are writing and glad that you are writing for you.

m.a. said...

Alot, Alot,

I agree. I think that this 'change of feelings' is a willful misinterpretation of Zen Buddhist principle. I won't comment on my example, but I will comment on another in which I believe a person equates denial of feelings with some kind of strength. Or it's just a way of lessening the blow of telling someone you don't love them anymore. Who knows.