But it hit her hard when he pointed out how much she lacked the passion he knew she was capable of. She listened to him through his tears, feeling so much and showing little. She felt this should bring her tears but instead she just felt sad, and even more helpless. She'd thought at times that she had passions but she had begun to realize that they were mere blips, nothing she felt she could dedicate her life to. Her career, where she had always prided herself on drawing her passion, was a series of uncomfortable endings and talking about it always pulled up feelings of dissatisfaction that she could not find the perfect fit like so many others seemed to.
She'd rolled the conversation around in her head over and over all morning, and kept it inside as she took a day trip with her brother, hoping the fresh air would clear her mind. When they arrived back in town, she wondered off in search of something to write in. Writing would solve her problems, she was sure of it.
So she sat down to begin her writing process. She would meditate first - a two-for-one, she figured. Meditation would streamline her thoughts and the rest would just come to her. When the timer went off, she picked up her pen and began to write. Incomplete sentences poured onto the paper and she wanted so badly to gather it together, organize it and solve the problem right away but she pushed forward knowing this was not the time.
Is this writing? Was this the sort of writing that could solve her problems? She itched to send him a text and tell him she had found a new way! That she thought this could solve it all with time. But she knew he would think she had just latched on to another path, and she knew she still needed to put the time in and do the work. It drove her crazy knowing that this attempt could be like all those that came before it - a brief interruption of her worn-in habits that might quickly take back the reigns once the novelty wore off.
She tucked her notebook away and instead sent him a message about dinner. He didn't need to know she had started this. She would tell him later - for now, they could enjoy the evening and pretend they weren't separately and together clawing at their relationship and her health, trying to hold it all together. She invited her brother over for dinner hoping that the time they could all spend together that night would ease her pain and his, or if anything, distract them.
She'd rolled the conversation around in her head over and over all morning, and kept it inside as she took a day trip with her brother, hoping the fresh air would clear her mind. When they arrived back in town, she wondered off in search of something to write in. Writing would solve her problems, she was sure of it.
So she sat down to begin her writing process. She would meditate first - a two-for-one, she figured. Meditation would streamline her thoughts and the rest would just come to her. When the timer went off, she picked up her pen and began to write. Incomplete sentences poured onto the paper and she wanted so badly to gather it together, organize it and solve the problem right away but she pushed forward knowing this was not the time.
Is this writing? Was this the sort of writing that could solve her problems? She itched to send him a text and tell him she had found a new way! That she thought this could solve it all with time. But she knew he would think she had just latched on to another path, and she knew she still needed to put the time in and do the work. It drove her crazy knowing that this attempt could be like all those that came before it - a brief interruption of her worn-in habits that might quickly take back the reigns once the novelty wore off.
She tucked her notebook away and instead sent him a message about dinner. He didn't need to know she had started this. She would tell him later - for now, they could enjoy the evening and pretend they weren't separately and together clawing at their relationship and her health, trying to hold it all together. She invited her brother over for dinner hoping that the time they could all spend together that night would ease her pain and his, or if anything, distract them.
