Last Man Standing

While sitting on the train, rumbling towards the north this afternoon, instead of reading, listening to music, or watching movies, I watched the world go by. I watched the rain dribble across the windows, and stared out into the middle distance for quite some time.

I am the last of the blogs I once knew.

Amy is now the editor of the website for one of the biggest IT companies in the world. She stopped writing for fun quite some time before that.

Lauren got married, and is now Mom to the most entertaining children of anybody I know. Somewhere along the line she stopped sharing her words, but still shares photos on Facebook.

Debs moved across the world after working at the Natural History Museum in London, and started a family with Mark.

Courtney stopped writing when her marriage to the cinematographer fell apart. She visited us one weekend years ago. I don’t remember the last time we wrote to each other.

Lisa had a car crash early one morning, and died. Her young son survived. That was about six years ago now. I’ve looked him up once or twice on the internet – she would be so proud.

Ingvild closed her blog down, and created a private Facebook page instead. She’s always done things her way. She could have ruled Tumblr.

Catherine was outed by the newspapers, but got to publish the book of her blog. She was internet famous for a little while – long enough to realise she didn’t want to be. The remnants of the blog still sit out there on the internet for anybody to read.

Erinn slowly retreated from every aspect of the internet. I wrote her an email a little while ago, to find out if she was still out there. The reply came back instantly. She’s still there – just not writing.

Tiffany retreated too. She still appears on Facebook from time to time, but her blog has been dead for over a year now. Life happened, I guess.

I’ve made a mistake.

I guess there is one left.

Victoria. Perhaps the most gifted writer of anybody I ever followed. She continues to write, and continues to tell stories in a way I wish I could.

I’m not sure I have a point. Maybe just that I miss reading words written by those that are no longer writing.

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