Pull Away II - 10thDoM RoM Challenge MUSE 2

Chapter II - Fear of Writing

I had been a writer before but only when I was sad. It was my only true outlet. My letters and poems flowed from my mind faster than I could even think of writing them down, and I always wrote them, never typed them. Even when he shattered my heart for the first time, into a million little pieces, I couldn't write about him. He was my numbness, my lack of feeling, my writer's block in flesh form. And I believed this was love, for I could only write when I was sad, and I couldn't write about him, so I must not be sad. This must be true love, forever love. The kind from which you don't pull away.

In the years between the first knowledge that I was in love and the horror of the realization that the love had been murdered, I never wrote about him. There was a fear there that could not be contained, a fear that if I wrote the about the sadness and the truth of the sadness, that it would be real, and I would have to open my eyes to a bigger, scarier world, a world where he and I were no longer one.

And the truth is that despite my realization that the love was gone, it took writing about something I thought completely unrelated that brought to surface the truth of my life, our life together. It was but a farce. I had loved him unconditionally, but he would always be number two, and that is the truth of the sadness.