Sunday, October 18, 2015

It's been too long

Writing has always been my first love.  Back when we didn't have enough money to buy books or install cable TV, writing became my refuge. I wrote my own stories and spoke to a faceless crowd online.  I've met wonderful writers like myself and people who would later become my friends.



After a major setback in my life, also known as the death of a decade old relationship, I couldn't write. I was paralyzed with brokenness and depression. Photography became my newest passion.  I dove into it head first. I studied and read about it, I experimented, made mistakes and improved my skills. I took hundreds of photos and made a new set of friends. I had no idea where it would take me. All I know is as long as I wasn't alone with my thoughts, I was okay. Nothing could hurt me.


It has been almost three years since that day and I am glad to say that I can talk about the past without bitterness. The hurt is still there but it's not a sharp as it used to be. My foray in the arts, travel and school has filled in the places where my ex used to occupy. I am okay.

And thus I feel my writer self finding its way back into the world. Little by little, I have started to pick up my pen and write down stories. I wrote down shorts, since I still don't think I can do a full story or novel.  Such endeavor requires careful planning, a detailed outline and emotional and mental preparation. However, I am challenging myself by being a planner instead of a panster this time for Nanowrimo.

Here's to going back into the warm and familiar arms of my first love. Time to write with inky fingers and a solid heart.

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