Re-read Freedom's Just Another Word For Nothing Left To Lose.
It's shorter than I remember. Still achingly satisfying.
Reached fiercelydreamed's Who's Left And Who's Leaving which I remember starting. I don't remember finishing it.
And then I saw the date: 2007. Seven years (!!!!!?) ago.
My active fandom days are vivid, alive like voices in my head. It's only been a moment, a whisper of time. A year or two.
Not ... seven.
I've come home to my playground to find it empty. To realize that I left. To sit on the squeaky swing at sunset and dream of my apartment in Seattle, the vibrant hum of the fan community in my old laptop that was too warm for the book it was sitting on, offering the sunlight of the Olympic mountains in the distance. WG complaining, "You're on that thing all day..." while I rolled my characters like dice, seeing what turned up.
Is it too late to still write? I wonder. I've written for the SGA Santa every year. Are my friends still here, despite being neglected?
I can't go back. The swing rusted years ago. But I can go forward. Do I have time?
ETA: Just read the new SGA fic, Decade, by canis_lupus. Wow. It's an entire reboot of the fandom.