So there we were. Deadline city.

Sometimes you feel so deeply that you begin to wonder if anyone will understand the depths of your heart, the range of emotions that go on behind the scenes of your face. The chaos of ideas and struggles, the ever moving cycle of “what if’s” and “why’s” that seem to entangle you in a net that never seems to go away. So you feel all the pain of those around you, you remember the ache that has lived inside you for as long as you can remember, and you wait for someone to come along and look at you, saying “You are familiar, and I want to get to know you again.” This is what we all want, to be seen and known, to be loved deeply as we feel deeply. To breathe and exhale without the fear that someone will leave when we have turned our back. We want a love that is as steady as our own breathing, and as life giving as the air we take in. Hold on, dear heart, hold on for the one who will see you, and know you. Who will love you with a love that is familiar; because our hearts have known too many strangers who have tried to call our hearts a pitstop, when it is a home, waiting for someone to find their way to a place that is safe.

Successful writers are not the ones who write the best sentences. They are the ones who keep writing. They are the ones who discover what is most important and strangest and most pleasurable in themselves, and keep believing in the value of their work, despite the difficulties.