She would never let me write about her. In the beginning I
pleaded, as to me it was very important. “It’s nothing bad, just how I’m
feeling,” I would tell her, to no avail. It was not that I wanted to disclose
the inner thoughts and feelings that I felt towards her. Instead, it was lack
of social companionship that made it necessary for me to write out the things
that I was unable to verbally dispose.
I should have known then that things were not to get much
better. A writer has to write. If you deprive him from that, or force him not
to write what he truly wants to then you’re removing a piece of him that is as
necessary for living as the blood that travels through his heart. That may not
have been the beginning of the end, but it was the start to a series of
sacrifices that offered little.
1 comment:
That's how I feel. I'm no writer, I'm just a person who likes to share...at the same time though everything has it's own time for it's own post. I mean, write...that's you. She shouldn't stop you from what you love. But also be fair to her & share what you feel with her. Read it to her before you click post.
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