To writing-

To me, you are my everything.

You are the love affair that never quite lost its wonder. You give me that same sense of optimistic joy that one experiences when they share their first kiss with another. It's as if the whole world stops when I'm positioned in front of a computer; fingers on the keys with limitless possibilities in my future.

There is nothing more enthralling than the perfect word. The one word that perfectly puts the complex vision in my mind into the open for the whole world to see. The one that perfectly connects to the next word, sentence, paragraph, and finally, page. At last! I’ve written something!

But like any romance, you don't come easy. Sometimes you have the ability to make the word frustration seem like an extreme understatement. It’s almost as if it’d be easier for me to to distance myself from you completely.

There are times when you don’t come easily. You are stubborn and relentless in extending my writer’s block, making my thoughts seem distant and warped. I find myself doubting my ability to live up to my own expectations. My thoughts quickly plummet from those of optimism and joy into a dark dungeon of creative insecurities. I think to myself, “you will never be a talented writer. Why are you even trying?”

But like true love, your presence is always there, clouding my thoughts. You sit in the back of my mind encouraging me to keep going. And once again, I’m back. I remember why I started in the first place. The euphoria comes rushing through my body and the inspiration has returned. Suddenly, I want to write everything; to share the truths of the world with the unknowing, to offer a laugh to someone struggling- anything!

Writing, sometimes I find myself distancing myself from you and allowing the more taxing parts parts of my life to take precedence. As more and more time goes by without anything, no less a word, I feel myself being drawn back to you. This is because when the world becomes too much, you have a way of slowing it down and reminding me what really matters. You force me to look at the world in a more subjective manner.

Truly, at the end of my life, I’m going to appreciate the days I spent enjoying every aspect of the world around me so much more than the days I simply let pass by. You encourage me to hold on to the simplistic beauty I experience daily; the effortless joy a laugh shared with my best friend can bring or the comforting bond an embrace following a tearful interaction creates.

With you, writing, even the pain in life is still beautiful. If words are the tools to healing, writing is my therapy. It’s the reassuring touch on the shoulder during a difficult time, the strength to carry on, and most importantly, the reminder that the best is yet to come.

So thank you, writing:

You’ve taught me how to be a better person. Through you, I’ve become stronger. I’ve learned how to persevere and to trust my instincts; to savor the small, seemingly minute aspects of daily life. How anything can become a beautiful piece of art if you allow it to be.

Even though you are a source of stress, I know that means I’m doing what I’m meant to do. For once, I’ve found the thing that simultaneously frustrates and enthralls me. I know I’m doing what’s meant of me. I can honestly say that through your influence, I’m inspired to make a change.

You’ve become my muse, my constant, and my motivation. I can only hope I will never stop learning and improving, so one day, your guidance and my work will inspire another to begin their own writing journey.

With you I know that if there is life, there is something left to be written and another to be inspired or changed; even if that person is simply only yourself.

Love always,

Mackenzie