words of words

I actually got my favorite table at the coffee shop, and the place isn’t too crowded and no one I know to distract me. My nerves are in place, although not in check. Every time I sit to begin to write (especially when it has been so long) I get so nervous, I don’t even think I can begin. And for today, I might not be able to write, it might just be re-reading and getting ready to write later. However, I took the whole day off to write and a lot of tomorrow, so either way, at least two days of my spring break will be exactly what I want.

Yesterday went to the movies with a dear friend—we saw How to Train Your Dragon, a movie I thought would be cute. It was phenomenal. Great story, and continuous laughter, and gorgeous animation. After, we went to Boulder spur of the moment. While we were there, we went to a bookstore on Pearl Street. There was an author promoting her new novel. Paula Reed. Her new novel is filling in the missing years of Hester (the protagonist in The Scarlet Letter). I didn’t really want to hear a lecture, but after listening to her a few moments, I joined the small throng of listeners—even asked a few questions of my own about agents and editing. It was pretty amazing hear her speak (both of her life and about her process). She has been a teacher for twenty years at Columbine High School. She was there with the shootings. She spoke how her depression the years after the shooting lead her to take a two years off after the freshman who had been there graduated, and how it lead her to pursue her passion instead of only daydreaming about it. She has written eight books. Only four have been published. I still wonder if I have that in me. I struggle with feeling like I am wasting time. Even today, there a little guilt of not taking massage clients when I need them so desperately—on a day when my folks’ house is closing and will no longer be ours (we got everything out—thanks to my friends), and we all need the money.

I guess I just keep going. I don’t want to be the one who always talked about what he wanted to do and what he wanted to be but was always too scared to get it done. In a year that my weaknesses have been abundantly evident to everyone in my life, I’ve also seen a few ounces of strength that I didn’t really know I had. The life I lead with Chad, while not ending the way I hoped and planned, took courage on my part and a lot of work (for him too, I am sure). I was terrified to give him all of me, and tried to break up with him a few times in our first few months because I was so scared. But, I did it. I gave every ounce of who I was to him, bared it all—good and bad, and left it there for him to judge as worthy or not. I risked everything with him. And while I learned how much more pain that leaves you open to, I also know I wouldn’t do it any other way with him, and I never would have experienced the magic I’d never dreamed of. Likewise, I will be a fool for this—for writing. Even if my writing sucks and no one publishes, I am going to continue writing. Just as at some point, it quit being a choice to continue to love Chad, it just because who I was, likewise, I don’t have much choice to write. I simply must. Even in this, in a blog that doesn’t really say anything, with my fingers constantly making typos, I can breathe easier.