This was written on our 9th Anniversary, nearly a year ago. But today it seems more valid than ever. Reading about and reliving those first moments helps my love to be fresh like a stack of hot pancakes.
Writing about life takes courage. For me it's a rite of passage. Something I have to do before I can move on to the next phase. Some things that have happened, haven't actually happened until I write about them. I may move forward but there will always be a wall until I find the courage to write about what I left behind. It isn't courage alone, some things have to be dealt with, consciously or not. You can write about it as many times as you want until one conclusion is met or another reinvented of the same series of events. And you learn something new about yourself every time, it can get you through the experience, break it down into terms you can wrap your brain around. But I can not begin to put all the pieces together until I put some connecting piece down in honest words. Some events are so impacting that though I may not think about it regularly or ever, it is always in my subconscious effecting the way I perceive other things. Later it will turn up and I'll remember all of the details, all of the moments, as if no time has passed, look at them with new eyes and a fresh perspective.
For a long time I was stuck in a rut because my writing revolved around one particular series of events and a person who shared my need for words. I was unable to move forward with something infinitely more important because I couldn't write about it. I hadn't figured out how.
Recently though, I've found the courage to push forward through that blockage. I've started a new project and thus a new blog. One that will only deal with this all engulfing subject. The subject of my life with my husband.
Writing about life takes courage. For me it's a rite of passage. Something I have to do before I can move on to the next phase. Some things that have happened, haven't actually happened until I write about them. I may move forward but there will always be a wall until I find the courage to write about what I left behind. It isn't courage alone, some things have to be dealt with, consciously or not. You can write about it as many times as you want until one conclusion is met or another reinvented of the same series of events. And you learn something new about yourself every time, it can get you through the experience, break it down into terms you can wrap your brain around. But I can not begin to put all the pieces together until I put some connecting piece down in honest words. Some events are so impacting that though I may not think about it regularly or ever, it is always in my subconscious effecting the way I perceive other things. Later it will turn up and I'll remember all of the details, all of the moments, as if no time has passed, look at them with new eyes and a fresh perspective.
For a long time I was stuck in a rut because my writing revolved around one particular series of events and a person who shared my need for words. I was unable to move forward with something infinitely more important because I couldn't write about it. I hadn't figured out how.
Recently though, I've found the courage to push forward through that blockage. I've started a new project and thus a new blog. One that will only deal with this all engulfing subject. The subject of my life with my husband.
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