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Jan. 22nd, 2012 01:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolariAbout two years ago, I came to a conclusion about my role in Second Life.
I'd spent four years in the virtual world. I had a home there. A rather large estate, full of trees and a nice cabin. I'd often find people in the woods I'd created, enjoying the campfire, or the scenic overlooks. All digital, but as natury as I could make it.
Emily and I spent a great deal of time there. She was in Victoria, BC. I was in San Marcos, TX. Second Life allowed us to be together nightly, to go out on virtual dates. A visit to Cafe Trivia, a walk along a beach. Visiting some of the wierd crap scattered around the grid.
I even had an extended family there. Two of my friends had a family in Second Life. A mom and a dad. Two sisters and a brother. I hung out with them, because they were my friends, but eventually they started considering Emily and I as part of their virtual family. I became an aunt, they were nieces and nephews. It wasn't so much a role-play kind of thing, as it was just fun to hang out with them.
I was so involved in that world, that I stopped just being a visitor. The Second Life world is very user-friendly. You make the world you live in. And, enjoying most of Celerio, I felt like a citizen.
I'd planned to write about that...but at the same time, things went badly.
The move to Seattle was a kick in the chest. A series of cascading failures that turned a promising move into a tragedy. As the situation became more and more dire, I spent less and less time in Second Life. Second Life was never really an escape for me, as it was a fun "game." And as things got bad, I simply walked away to concentrate on fixing my personal situation.
When I became diabetic, and my finances collapsed, I lost my virtual estate. I began to see Second Life as another of those cascading failures. The finally destruction of my relationship with Emily put the nail in the coffin. The place that we shared together became a place of deep hurt. I'd lost pretty much everything there and didn't want to come back any longer. I gave away all my money, changed my account back to free, and dissapeared off the grid forever. It wasn't like I was there much at that point anyways.
My friends were still there, though - my virtual nieces and nephew. I kept up with them via other channels, such as Facebook and Twitter. Just after Christmas, one of those friends, EMailed me for Christmas, and we had a bit of a talk. Nothing big, just talking about the season and some art stuff. She mentioned she missed me back on the grid, and I thought I'd come back and visit.
It hurt to teleport back into the grid, where my virtual home used to be, to find an almost bleak wasteland devoid of houses and trees. There was just nothing there anymore. I went up to my friend's workshops and talked with everyone for a bit. They all told me how they'd missed me.
When they went to bed, I visited some of Emily and my old haunts. Most did not exist anymore, which was saddening. What was there, reminded me of what was lost when Emily and I went our seperate ways. It hurt. Hurt a lot. I didn't really want to come back after that.
A few weeks or so passed when I decided to come back for a bit. Again, it was painful. And again, my friends were there, and we chatted a bit. Before they left, they told me they'd missed me, and were glad to see me back. That cut the hurt. Quite a bit.
The next day, I came back on the grid, and asked them of them if I could use one of their showcase houses to live in. To have a starting point again, where I could try to rebuild that Second Life again.
I want to reclaim my life there. I want it to be my world again, not just the world for Emily and I.
I want to be a citizen of Second Life again.
I'd spent four years in the virtual world. I had a home there. A rather large estate, full of trees and a nice cabin. I'd often find people in the woods I'd created, enjoying the campfire, or the scenic overlooks. All digital, but as natury as I could make it.
Emily and I spent a great deal of time there. She was in Victoria, BC. I was in San Marcos, TX. Second Life allowed us to be together nightly, to go out on virtual dates. A visit to Cafe Trivia, a walk along a beach. Visiting some of the wierd crap scattered around the grid.
I even had an extended family there. Two of my friends had a family in Second Life. A mom and a dad. Two sisters and a brother. I hung out with them, because they were my friends, but eventually they started considering Emily and I as part of their virtual family. I became an aunt, they were nieces and nephews. It wasn't so much a role-play kind of thing, as it was just fun to hang out with them.
I was so involved in that world, that I stopped just being a visitor. The Second Life world is very user-friendly. You make the world you live in. And, enjoying most of Celerio, I felt like a citizen.
I'd planned to write about that...but at the same time, things went badly.
The move to Seattle was a kick in the chest. A series of cascading failures that turned a promising move into a tragedy. As the situation became more and more dire, I spent less and less time in Second Life. Second Life was never really an escape for me, as it was a fun "game." And as things got bad, I simply walked away to concentrate on fixing my personal situation.
When I became diabetic, and my finances collapsed, I lost my virtual estate. I began to see Second Life as another of those cascading failures. The finally destruction of my relationship with Emily put the nail in the coffin. The place that we shared together became a place of deep hurt. I'd lost pretty much everything there and didn't want to come back any longer. I gave away all my money, changed my account back to free, and dissapeared off the grid forever. It wasn't like I was there much at that point anyways.
My friends were still there, though - my virtual nieces and nephew. I kept up with them via other channels, such as Facebook and Twitter. Just after Christmas, one of those friends, EMailed me for Christmas, and we had a bit of a talk. Nothing big, just talking about the season and some art stuff. She mentioned she missed me back on the grid, and I thought I'd come back and visit.
It hurt to teleport back into the grid, where my virtual home used to be, to find an almost bleak wasteland devoid of houses and trees. There was just nothing there anymore. I went up to my friend's workshops and talked with everyone for a bit. They all told me how they'd missed me.
When they went to bed, I visited some of Emily and my old haunts. Most did not exist anymore, which was saddening. What was there, reminded me of what was lost when Emily and I went our seperate ways. It hurt. Hurt a lot. I didn't really want to come back after that.
A few weeks or so passed when I decided to come back for a bit. Again, it was painful. And again, my friends were there, and we chatted a bit. Before they left, they told me they'd missed me, and were glad to see me back. That cut the hurt. Quite a bit.
The next day, I came back on the grid, and asked them of them if I could use one of their showcase houses to live in. To have a starting point again, where I could try to rebuild that Second Life again.
I want to reclaim my life there. I want it to be my world again, not just the world for Emily and I.
I want to be a citizen of Second Life again.
