I started this blog to find my groove again. Get the passion back, the habit. I bought a book full of writing prompts. Jump starts to getting back inside my own head. I’ve come to realize the longer I’m here, the more I write, the more personal these posts are becoming.
I still dig out the book of prompts, scroll through until I find the one that speaks to me at that moment, open my laptop and……go completely off the rails lol writing whatever comes to mind. It’s cathartic. Healthy, I think. Maybe finding my way back to what I lost isn’t about forming a habit. But more about finding the desire to communicate through words.
The ache in my chest is still quite fresh. Losing those books…was very much like losing a piece of myself. I’m grieving the loss everyday. My laptop sits closed, the pencil sits inside the notebook, the words die in the back of my head. Stories too young to grow into realized pages.
But, it’s there. Underneath the grief, the fear of starting over, the need is there. A little more present than it was yesterday. Hope is returning. Finally, it’s returning.