(Your Public Broadcast Service...)
When is it okay to tell someone that you are leaving them? Does anything like the perfect moment to break up with someone exist? Yes, I think it does. I believe in moments because all the most important events of my life have hinged on fortuitous moments when I did something else instead of another and that moment unveiled yet another chapter in the life I was going to live.
Like a day, a morning when I woke up, my traveling bags packed, notice of intent to travel to all I knew already served, got back into bed and decided I was not traveling that Friday morning. I would travel on a Monday. In that moment, saving my life because the people I was supposed to travel with would all be dead by that Monday and when I got to see them, it was helping to arrange road and plane travel of their corpses. So yes, I believe in moments and that perfect moments exist.
I have been in the inside of perfect moments. Like when an awed girl tells you, “I didn’t know this could happen to me too,” saying it not for your benefit, but more to herself. I have been on the inside of perfect moments, stone-drunk on Smirnoff Triple Distilled, barechest on a stool outside a green tent on a Friday afternoon, talking politics with a man who turned out to be a president and had been living in the next tent. So yes, I believe in perfect moments.
But still…when and what is the perfect moment to tell without unnecessary drama (because I was so over that 2 years ago), or false humility (you’ll never appreciate your own worth if you are always talking yourself down), that you are through. This is your last ride, and like many things that you have been so sure of lately, you know for definite this is your last blogging year. Everything you are writing and putting on is but leading to that grand finale post you have been planning to write for four years since you started blogging. Your grand encore to this space and invention that got you back into the writing, rekindled loves you had become estranged from, sustained you in the haphazard madness of dealing with furious betrayals, downsizing to blow up again.
A lot of things have prompted this out and out confession instead of my preferred muted twilight vanishing. Ambrose Bierce’s way of going out still the legend in my mind. It’s you, this blog’s loyal reader, who I don’t want one day wondering, “Whatever happened to that Iwaya dude?” somehow I owe you this. Nothing haunts me more than false expectations and disappointed hopes and I expect it’s the same for you. Iwaya was a phase for me and after this year I’ll be done with Iwaya and go back to who I’ve always been-JM. Who I was even when I did not how to be. This is no Kid Fox-King Fox metamorphosis, a laser skin graft that can be reverted, a mirage smoke and mirrors play- it’s just a statement of fact. Laced with thank you’s for emails received over the past, verbal loving comments that often left me in stuttering gratefulness for all the happiness your notice often gave me—and an early notice that the end is nigh. Every post this year brings me closer to the last post I’ll ever write here.