Way back when I first started blogging — when it wasn’t even called blogging — I’d often write about the guy I was dating. We broke up about a year later shortly after he read a piece alluding to my frustration and unhappiness in the relationship.
In my post-breakup sadness, I naively believed we would still be together if I had never recounted the dream on my blog. I felt my words were unfairly used against me to justify the breakup rather than fixing the relationship.
After that, I asked him not to read my blog. I wanted him to know as little about my life as I knew about his. I wanted the break in communication and knowledge about one another’s lives to be equal.
Of course, there was really no way to make sure he wasn’t readying my blog and that troubled me. Still, I didn’t stop writing. I’ve never stopped writing on my blog for more than week* until now.
At first, It wasn’t an intentional blog strike. I was just busy. Job1, job2, family, DB, friends, traveling, and the phantom dissertation proposal were all taking up a lot of my time.
But it quickly evolved in to a decision not to blog, to lay low.
That feeling I had many years ago returned. I was still bothered that you could know so much about me — or at least what I chose to reveal — and yet you would still be a mystery. So I didn’t reveal anything, no thought, opinion, story, or update. I wanted to make you do more than just type my URL to find out how I’m doing. You know, call or visit.
And so, I chose to keep my words to myself for a few weeks, until I knew you’d be gone.
There was that time back in October 2006 when I had technical difficulties with my blog and had to switch hosts. I think my blog was hacked.