Here goes

[arqueete]

Arqueete says:
This chat certainly has a life of its own, doesn't it?
Shelli says:
Indeed
Arqueete says:
Many years. Many people.
Shelli says:
Well, Arq, it's our lives.

Shelli says:
We put a lot of energy into it, a lot of ourselves

It's been a solemn evening. A lot of talk, a lot of reminiscing, a sort of collective sense of foreboding. I don't know if I can explain the things we've talked about tonight. I could quote the words, the confessions, tell the drama as it unfolded, but that would never be the whole story. We realized that... things are changing among us. The chat. My friends. It's not the first time we've seen things change, and we all come to this place from different paths of people and groups and events, but this is the first time, for me, that I've discussed the change as it happened, felt this sort of grief in foresight. I'd like to talk a while, if you'll listen. There's plenty to say.

For me, I see the start being a woman. That woman is Amelia Atwater-Rhodes -- one of my favorite authors. I became acquainted with her in the middle of a time of change for another line of people entirely. Because I had experience with moderating forums, I was told to sort of oversee the moderators of this forum -- TDOS. Among these moderators were Morbidly Perky (Mop) and Sean Nikolas (SN) -- the others are lost to my memory. SN, I believe it was, started the chat. We, the moderators, and Amelia herself were in it. We chatted about... I don't know. The website and its going-ons. Her books.

I asked if I could invite a friend of mine, I probably wanted to introduce her to Amelia. They let me. That friend's name was Shelli. It wasn't long before my friend Patta was in there too. Other people invited friends. Not all of these friends were even members of TDOS. Things changed.

I almost... it blows my mind. I think back to this time and there were so many people, so many things, how can it be so easy to forget? When I think, names and snippets of personality come to mind -- people like Kat, Ju, Ash... I almost want to cry. Do they remember me?

People change. Drama occurs. Things cool over. Sometimes they don't. New people come. Old people go.

Shelli met a new friend on LJ. harbek didn't care for AIM. We tried MSN. We liked it. We stayed.

Change. We lost people. SN. Amelia. Frumple. Ju. Rebe. In one swoop. I don't know how we did that. Severed ties to the very group that began the whole thing. I don't know. You don't think hard about that sort of thing when it's happening. I don't blame anyone.

We made new friends on MSN. Again, people come and go. Life goes on.

Life is going on tonight. I don't know where this will end. Maybe it won't even start -- maybe tomorrow everything will be just as it has been.

But, I've seen a lot of change. To me, this is still the same procession of people that started with that woman and that website, even if the name isn't the same -- it's gone through many -- and I've seen so many people, people with faces and names, some whose names and faces have faded with time, come and gather here. It's always been a group of friends telling about their lives... I've heard laments and frustrations, celebrations and cries of joy... All of these people have put parts of themselves into this as they've came and most of them went, and I can't help but wonder, if all of them in the snippets of their lives that they have counted themselves among us, have given some of themselves to this, how much of myself is entwined among them, and what does this mean?

My heart feels heavy under the weight of worries and ghosts of memories of people I once knew.

Today, I found out Patta is seeing Chess (and going to try and bootleg) and that Lanzer knows about the Gaian Theatre Company. I don't know. These things seemed more important this morning.

I don't know what to say. I could say, to everyone who's ever been a part of this, that... I love you. All of you. Those I recall and those I don't, those that left on good terms and those I'd never wish to speak to again. But, love doesn't seem to be the half of it. I send you love but I also send you... my vulnerability. My honesty. My joy, my sorrows, the things I'm interested in, the things I complain about, my words, my lyrics, my silences. I've given you all more of my life than even my family, and most of you, most of you, I won't even speak to again and I can't give you more than what you already have of me -- because I like to think, maybe, that while you leave a little of yourself here, you also take a little of us with you, too.

Perhaps I am over-dramatic or over-emotional. I'm just trying to be honest with you, and I hope, with the pieces of me all of you hold, that maybe, collectively, you understand that I can put these feelings and memories in no other language.

I wish I could offer advice, solutions, for all of us. I'm sorry.