Words dance on the page as I try to no avail to explain all this. I scrunch up the paper – the 5th in the past 10minutes – and dump it into the bin. I peel away another piece of paper from the pile. There has to be a way to start this right.
And so, I go at it again; but 3 minutes into the thing and I know that this isn’t going to turn out much better than the previous. 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, they all end up in the bin.
The pencil hits the wall and rebounds, falling some 3 feet away from my writing desk. Done. I am done with this. Saying I love you should never be this difficult.
The words refuse to fall into place, like so many times before.
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