1:47 p.m. - 2012-01-31
writer's block removed
I think I've gotten over my writer's block. Think about it -- thinking about writing a book -- was suddenly different today than it has been for the past five-plus years. I've had my plots and rough sketches in my head for a long time, but I felt uninspired about writing the crime novel and knew the one that would be more personal was based on stuff that was still way to close to home for writing to be anything but therapy.
And even if it was only for therapy, I still had nothing to say. I figured it was because I wrote for a living anyway; who wants to sit in front of a computer in a newsroom and write all day and then go home and sit in front of a computer in their apartment and write some more? But even I stopped working to stay home with the kids, I still had nothing to say. So I guess my day job wasn't a problem.
I think it's because I'm finally maybe over my ex-BFF; I still miss her but I don't feel devastated anymore. I've managed to develop a few good friends and I don't feel so unkown and unknowable anymore.
You know what I miss the most about her, the thing that I'll probably never experience again? I miss sleeping with her. Pajamas, no sexual contact whatsoever, but we'd talk into the week hours of the morning with our arms around each other, and we always woke up that way, arms around each other, or snuggled like spoons. I miss that. I think I probably will for the rest of my life. When you're an adult, "sleeping with" someone means having sex. You sleep with your sexual partners(s), not your best friends.
That sucks. Sex is a real killer of emotional intimacy, if you ask me. You tell him your innermost secrets, and his response is to get turned on and start mauling you. How fucking empathic.
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