It’s been so long since I’ve written that Google Chrome has logged me out. Not sure how I feel about that. These days, all my entries and status updates sound the same: “I haven’t written in a while.” It’s actually been quite a few years since I’ve kept a journal.
There was a time in my life when I thought I would die if I didn’t write – as though there were too much inside. I felt as if I was in a constant state of inflation – always on the cusp of ripping apart at the seams. And the only way to stop myself from annihilation was to put pen to paper.
Writing was everything to me…it’s all I was. All I am? All I was…
I used to feel like I had this story inside me – a story I felt the world needed to know. A story that defined me. A story that would finally answer the question, “What am I worth?”
And now when I look to that place where that story once lived – I find nothing. So, what am I worth?