6 years since I got married. About 6 months since I’ve been divorced. Just haven’t had the energy to write about it. But I need to write a little something now, because I need to transition this to my next.
Writing can be my therapy. I’ve done it for years. I have stuff posted here from 20 years ago. 20 years? Am I that old? Hm.. I was about 17 then. Did computers even exist then? Not sure when I started writing exactly, but it was in English class in high school. There was a writing contest announced for the school. And I remember I had pretty much never written anything, but I had an active imagination, and a good friend who wrote, so I felt I should give it a try. I did, I wrote 2 short stories. Only one was supposed to be entered, but my teacher liked both of mine so much she entered them both. I won the school. My stories went up to the County level and was compared to the winners in each of our other counties schools. I won that too. So I got sent to the state level. Went to some fancy building in Raleigh, NC and sat in a room with other kids who would write on the spot something for the final contest. But, it wasn’t that I could write anything. I didn’t realize this going in, but they gave a specific topic, and I had to write about that. And it was about something out out of a popular book, my thoughts on the subject. I don’t like to read books, and I didn’t care anything about the subject, so I gave it a half assed shot and just tried to throw my creative ideas in where I could. Failed miserably.
Anyway, didn’t discourage me. Kept writing, moved into poetry, with the occasional story. Eventually moved to writing here in my blog. Before blogs were blogs. It was just my journal. Those were my creative days, that I miss so much. Lately I write more about how much I miss writing than I do writing anything else. In fact, lately I haven’t written anything at all. Other than for work, which I write a lot of communications every day. I mean creative writing.
Being in love prompted a lot of my writing. Falling out of love was some, and lack of any love was a lot too. It’s easy to write about love. Hard to write about failure of it. For about a year and a half now I’ve considered how to write about the last failure. Still, no clue where to begin.
Why should I even do it? The pain caused isn’t even worthy of the text on this page. I can’t possibly articulate such strong feelings in letters, it’s a blur of unlimited potential. I’m very symbolic and sometimes things, words, pictures, feelings seem to mean more to me that others. Eh, everyone sees what they see.
I’ve moved on. I have, forcibly, but also willingly with who I hope is the right person. So going forward, I’ll try to post about my next in posts after this one. And posts about the previous I’ll try to keep in this posting and update it when I write more. I need to document it for my own therapy. For now sleep.