I feel obliged, somehow, to acknowledge this conclusion with a few veiled statements. Pausing before the last nail on the coffin, if you will. (Note: I spent a minute thinking of appropriate, unique analogies but came up with nothing significant. The only situation I could think of was the last digestive gurgle of a condemned man's final meal, which is gross.)
I started this blog because my world was collapsing on me. It's been four years, give or take, and the psychological weight is gone. It dissipated with that last message. It's convoluted - sort of monumental, but also provoking the sort of involuntary reaction I'd produce if I were cleaning out the fridge and stumbled upon an organism sporting the first stages of mold - oh. ok. there it goes.
It's not angry.
It's not sad.
It's not vengeful.
It's not regretful.
It's not pained.
It is what it is.
Even when I try, I don't feel much of anything anymore except a small flicker of recognition, a passing interest.
Memories are just memories.
They may be good or bad or sweet or interesting or glossy but they belong in the past.