Dear Writer’s Block,
Its not you. It’s me. I have to accept that now. This letter is coming to you as some short, quick git of us with our relationship. The ups, the downs, the in-betweens . . . The “Us.” I can’t do it anymore and I’m sure you can understand why.
My heart’s soaring while you keep me down. But you can’t help something that you are. I can accept that now. We’re just not compatible. I need to go, you need to stay. I have wings, you’re cemented. I can’t CHANGE you . . . . It was wrong for me to think that I could. It shows how immature I was then. But I can’t continue to walk on this beaten path that you’ve beaten me in over and over again. You may never have hit me, but I’ve learned long ago that words are just as wounding. Your blistering words will forever be seered on the inside of my heart, your bitter care eternally etched into my memory.
You can’t write.
You’ll never write well again.
NO one will want to read this crap.
You can’t make it work.
I’m glad though, in a way. Because it ameks it easier to see the things that I do every single day that runs contrary to your beliefs, WB.
I’m writing now.
I’ll write as often as I feel.
People ARE reading my crap
And when I get published, I will make sure every single reader reads this letter, just to prove to you how wrong you were.
So, without further ado, I bid to you a goodnight. Not a farewell. Maybe we will see each other in the distances. You wont recognize me though, maybe, simply because of how much I plan to improve. I’m sure you;’ll be recognizable. I’ll be sure to send a card.
Don’t call me, I’ll call you.
A/N: My Authors page will be updating soon with my wip sheet. WTTW, Mirrors final and SNED, along with new ones and Hitmen~