Older, but no wiser

My batteries have run flat, and the charger is lost without trace; I think perhaps it may soon be time to let this blog go, and let go all those hopes and dreams and fears and anxieties which are tied up with it.

How would I feel if I quit? Which would be greater – the sadness or the relief? There would be both, certainly. Would I forever castigate myself over the opportunities abandoned? Regret the friendships forsaken – albeit that they remain mostly still acquaintances, with their true potential yet to be realised?

Would I leave it standing or would I delete it? If I left it, unwilling to take that final step, could I move on? It would always be tempting me back, or reminding me of what might have been. But could I really hit that delete button? In cold blood, without a trace of emotion? It would be like taking a knife and cutting out a part of me. But maybe that kind of drastic surgery is necessary.

But where would I be moving on to? A life without a blog; it'd take some getting used to. Would my world expand or shrink? It could be liberating; it could also be a form of confinement.

I don't know; is it just inertia which keeps me here?