I left for Dundracon certain in my heart it would be my last one. I was certain that I was no longer needed, wanted or loved by either of my main social groups from California (mentally dubbed the Good Omens group and the Team Volare group). So, this was going to be my last, quiet good-bye. I just wanted to see them all one more time before I allowed reality to show me the door.
This seems melodramatic now, on the other side of the convention. Not only was I wrong, I was seriously wrong. People were happy to see me. I was welcomed in and so many told me how much they had missed me. Some acted just the way they always act: happy to see me with arms open and ready to game while catching up on the latest they had not read about.
It took me until the second day of convention to realize that a lot of these people don't see each other except at conventions. Or, they see each other rarely. So, the whole time I was thinking that they, as a group, had moved beyond me, they were missing me—and all our other friends—just as much. Thus, no awkward moments and lots of good conversations.
Really, I feel like my adoration well has just been refilled. It's OK to go on with my life. Everyone else's has, too. That's why conventions are such good places to meet up.
And speaking of life moving on...my goodness, there are a lot of babies in the group! With more on the way. I don't want one of my own but I can admit to a fondness towards those of my friends.