Twenty Eight Weeks To Go…
I cried a lot today, a whole lot. Slipping back into my role in the real world has not been easy this time. I may have been a round peg at one time, but now I’m square. The happiest moments of my day were those few moments spent on the Lesley campus when I went to pick up Shera to drive her to the airport. I tried to grab hold of one last bit of the magic there, but it seems to already be fading.
The trouble is that I found myself this past week. I found all the things that had been dying a slow death inside myself and I was amazed to see them again, happy to see them again, as happy as I was to see my Lesley friends for the first time in six months. The tears that came today were born of the frustration that comes when you find that lost part of yourself and then you sense it almost immediately drifting away again.
I was happy this past week. I smiled a lot. I laughed. These are things I haven’t been able to do. I don’t want to forget again that I’m capable of them.
I also want people to understand that this writing thing is not some temporary thing I’m going to eventually get over. Yes, you may be happy that I’ve settled down, that I have a wife, that I’ll soon have a house, that I’ve thought about kids. Those things may be true, but I am a writer above all else. Anything that gets in the way of that dream, that goal, will be swept out of my life without hesitation.
I’ve seen the person I’m capable of being and I’m not going to take any shit from anyone that wants to stand in the way of my dreams. Not anymore.
There are twenty-eight weeks until the next residency, but I’m not going focus my whole life on getting through to that moment. I’m going to focus on making my life over the next twenty-eight weeks as good as it has been over the past week. That’s my goal.