My mind’s a blank.
I can’t think of anything to write about. I feel lost, adrift, less than human.
That is what happens when you make writing your life’s love. You want to write all of the time and never be too far away from what writing can do for you. Can do to you!
It brings love to me. I go to my muse within and spend luscious time with her, awaiting whatever she wants to bring to the surface. I can’t wait to see what we produce together when reading her wisdom or corny jokes up on the screen.
But what happens when I can longer find her? What happens when I miss her so much that I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if she ever leaves me?
I don’t think I’d want to continue to live. No, I’m not suicidal or that kind of crazy. It’s just that I don’t want to be separated from her for too long. It is painful. I want to be with her and in her arms for like forever. She brings so much warmth and understanding to me. She gives me reasons to live, to be alive, and to help others feel the same way sometimes.
Wait a minute. While I was pining away, my muse snuck in the back door. She never really left me and it feels so divine to write with her on this my favorite Valentine’s Day. I feel one again. I feel whole!