The Long Hard Mend

Posted on Jul 4, 2015 in Blog
“One day,” a close friend said to me a week or so ago, “you’ll look back on this time, and see how much you learned. How much growing you did, and how all of it helped you become the person that you needed to be.”

Why can’t I be that person now, I think. Why can’t I be that person now.

It is beautiful out. It is beautiful and I went for a run this morning and last night at work I wrote the first few sentences of a new story. I haven’t written fiction in–a year? Maybe not quite that long, though it feels a lot longer. I won’t count the novel because that doesn’t feel like writing fiction so much as it feels like a chore, or some kind of demon that keeps playing hide-and-seek.

How is it that you can be outside enjoying the day and the sunshine and having such a lovely time, only to wake up in the middle of the night and feel as though you’ve broken all over again? Why does it take such a long time, this business of putting oneself back together?

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1 Comment

  1. Sirrah
    July 13, 2015

    Because you never actually put yourself together, all your Humpty Dumpty cracks rendered invisible. You just cobble things together enough to get by, get through. And then you do it all over again.