So You Want to Be A Writer?

 To be a writer you need to write.

And this is why, in a nutshell, I have failed as a writer.

When I have the energy I don't have the time. When I have the time.....my mind wanders and fades out on me. No focus or ambition. No ideas. "They say write what you know." Whoever they are. 

Here's the thing......what I know is my life. And my life is excruciatingly underwhelming.

All those chances I could have and should have taken in my teens and twenties but was too afraid to are gone. My parents had baggage which they both handed off to me without asking. And I never had the courage to toss it in the dumpster of damaged goods where it belongs. 

Would I have been braver if I had felt at all pretty? If I had not been allowed to stuff my emotions down with copious amounts of food, trying to fill that empty space within me. My parents were both too busy trying to get their shit together to notice that their only child was slowly dying inside.

If I had had faith in myself to face the challenges of more difficult classes. To be a joiner instead of a survivor.

We had wine and cheese with the neighbors last night. Something we had all talked about doing for years, and before we knew it 20 years had passed by. We had gotten together at one another's place for the occasional birthday party or what have you. But never as a one on one double date sort of thing. We had them over to our place a few weeks ago for wine by the sunflowers, and then of course last night at their place.

It was so nice to be able to talk with people that we could relate to and vice versa. And to listen about their travels. And to have them encourage us and to feel encouraged that there might still be hope for future travel. This, in combination with my recent trip, is causing me to feel restless. The urge to go somewhere and see new places is there.

I can still imagine myself sitting on the open deck of that cute little upstairs apartment in Stonington. Looking out at the harbor and people watching as the locals and tourists alike go to and from. Wondering what their story is. And wondering if anybody ever wonders what my story is?