Saturday, June 5, 2010

Writing Prompt

This is a response to a writing prompt from the site Writer's Digest.

The prompt was to write a letter, breaking up with Writer's Block. Here's mine.

Dear Writer’s Block,

Really, it’s not you. It’s me. I just feel that this relationship is suffocating me, and I can never get anything done because I’m always upset that I can’t write. I feel like I’m being held back from my true potential as a writer, and that’s not fair to me.

Would you believe, that the times you cheated on me, I was actually happy? Truly, I wasn’t upset one bit when you left me alone a couple of nights and spent it with someone else. No, don’t… I don’t want to know who they were. It doesn’t matter. I just felt so happy and free when you were away, and I must keep that feeling for the rest of my life. I can’t go on living this way.

I know that I told you that my friends all liked you, but I lied. In truth, none of them were too fond of you, and they could see through your exterior better than I ever could, until now. I now see that our relationship has been based on falsities, like the fact that I can’t writer, or that I’m not creative enough to come up with new ideas. It’s not fair to either of us to live a lie for the rest of our lives, right?

Besides, there are so many other people out there for us to experience, and I feel ready to meet those people. A piece of advice, however, is that perhaps for a while you should only hang out with someone for a little while at first, to see if they can get used to you, or if they even like you at first. It was never flattering when you forced yourself upon me and never gave me a chance to decide if I wanted to continue this relationship. Now I’m putting my foot down and saying “No!”  

I’m sure that we’ll meet again one day in the future, but I want you to promise that it will only be a brief meeting, like grabbing coffee or a quick lunch, and you must be on your way. I can’t have you lingering around me longer than a couple of hours, or I fear I will fall back into my same routines, and who knows how much that could affect my life in the future. What if writing is my main source of income, and I just can’t write? I know you care about me, and you wouldn’t want me to have to worry about money like that.

And so I say good bye. We can both part ways for this point on. No other contact is necessary. I’ll leave your things in a box outside my door.

(No longer) Yours,