The new "No More Tears" formula.

I’m getting married in the morning. Ding dong, the bells are going to chime.

Years ago, back when I was in art school and inspired by Eddie Campbell’s “Alec” series of comics, I had the idea that I wanted to tell stories about the things I found interesting about my life, and make them into something else that wasn’t fiction or fact but still something that other people would read about. I made various attempts, from little booklets to zines to an entire hardback book for my Masters’ degree, but always felt like I was getting nowhere near what I wanted to do. It was like I couldn’t get anywhere close to this fabled idea in my head, because I didn’t really know what the fabled idea really WAS. I wanted to tell stories and communicate something, but I had no idea what that something could be.

Cut forward some years, and I’m out of art school and done teaching there as well (although I didn’t know that at the time), and I start a diary here at Diaryland. There are all these reasons why I thought I’d done that at the time: I wanted to prove to myself that I could write every day, and have some kind of official record of me doing so. I wanted to try and write for an (imaginary, I thought, although I liked the idea that someone could find me by accident and read what I’d written. Not that I’d ever have told anyone that, because I didn’t – and still don’t – have any faith in my writing, and because it sounds ridiculously hopeful and vain, but still) audience again, having just gone through a shitty aftermath of a relationship that’d left me scribbling self-indulgent angst at every opportunity. I wanted something new. But somewhere in the back of my mind, buried underneath my original idea that I’d never write anything here that’d give too much of me away, was the old notion of turning my life into stories and giving them away. Who knew? I called the diary “Tears Before Bedtime”, because it’s an old phrase foreboding disaster that I’d always liked, and because it’s how I felt at the time, too.

Back then, you see, I had no idea what the diary would turn into, or that over a hundred people seem to read each entry I wrote towards the end. I definitely didn’t have any kind of suspicion that it’d lead the love of my life to me, because that kind of thing – I thought then – only happens in crappy films and novels. What I also had no idea of was something that I only realised the other week; that, despite everything else, Tears Before Bedtime as a whole was all about being secretly optimistic and wanting the best for everyone even though you think it’s simplistic and too embarrassing to admit. It’s also about the fact that sometimes optimism pays off when you least expect it. Who knew about that, either?

So, it’s my last night as a single man as so many have pointed out to me so far, and I’m writing this to say goodbye to this diary and to Diaryland. I’m still going to be around, here, doing something else for awhile, but this diary finishes at the same time as my old life. It’s one of the last things to go because I’ve enjoyed it so much, but it’s time to put it of its misery. I’m not the same me who started this, about two years ago. I’m in a new country with new beginnings all around me everywhere I look, and the greatest person completely beyond anyone my imagination could’ve hoped for by my side. Writing something with a title that promises sadness just doesn’t feel right anymore, you know? Like the Oscars, there are too many people to thank before I get pulled off this podium, but of particular importance: Qween, who wrote to me first. Holly, who wrote second. Emma, Lara, Paul and Molly, all of whom I met through here, because they’re all great and have in various ways been around just when I needed them. Discodave, because he rocks the house. The traditional Aberdeen crowd, of course, but especially Andy, Sam, Gabi, Phil, Sunny, Mich, John and Kirsty, who isn’t in Aberdeen but just gets included because. Everyone who linked me or wrote to say hello or whatever, especially all those who wished well on the immigration things and gave nice wishes for the wedding (especially Murphyz, who sent a nice e-mail I got this morning). And the future Mrs Grim, of course, without whom I wouldn’t ever be as happy as I am these days.

I feel like there’s more I should say, but I don’t know what. Maybe I should just leave it like this: Diaryland has changed my life, and it’s never been anything less than interesting.

I should go to bed. I’m getting married in 17 hours, after all.

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Copyright © Grim, 2002