In my twenties, I was living in Boston, finding myself and filling endless notebooks with... well, with agonizing over the details of my life. I fancied myself a writer, involved in workshops and groups - poetry and fictional snap shots crafted in coffee shops and from the pink couch of my writing teacher. It was so liberating, exhilarating, empowering... I started this blog, but can't seem to fill it. The idea of putting down words still feels so scary. Even my comfort is no comfort these days. Yet another loss.
Sometimes, I feel like I have no words at all, only tears. Or the words that come are so maudlin, so trite. They don't seem to be...enough.
Maybe I'll start with their names: Jacob and Joshua.
3 comments:
glad you started writing again. the first step is often the hardest. wishing you all the best.
jacob and joshua are beautiful names.
~luna
Very beautiful names, thank you for sharing them with all of us. They will be remembered...
Boston was where I started writing too.. I have fond memories of dreaming big dreams on the banks of the Charles -- some have come true, others remain elusive.
Hope the days are filled with the support you need...
There is a lot of power in a name.
I think I'm going to start referring to everyone I love as 'it'. Maybe it'll ease the pain when they go.
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