The Place I Keep Forgetting I Have

In 2022 I came back to this blog and wrote that I’d forgotten I had my own space to express myself.

That sentence stuck with me, because who forgets a thing like that?

I started this place in 2019. I left. I came back in 2022. I wrote a little, then less. The last post before this month was February 2025. And then, quiet.

Here’s why I kept leaving: life kept hitting me hard.

Every time. I had to focus on that. I couldn’t be here and be there too. So I stepped away, and I did what I had to do to get through, and I did it so that I could be here today.

For a long time I read those gaps as failure. Three starts, three stops.

I don’t think that anymore. I wasn’t quitting. I was busy staying standing.

And here’s the part that gets me: nothing was deleted. Every post was still sitting here. Nobody asked me to explain where I’d been. The page didn’t care that I was gone. It just waited, like a light left on in a room I’d stopped walking past.

I can’t promise I’ll never leave again. I’ve said versions of that before, and life doesn’t ask my permission. But I know now that leaving isn’t the same as giving up, and that coming back counts.

If you’ve set something down because life got heavy, a notebook, a hobby, a version of yourself, it isn’t gone. You’re allowed to pick it up again. Nobody’s keeping score.

The sentence isn’t over. The underscore is still blinking.

LIFE IS UNKNOWN_