Ever since time immemorial, I have wanted to be a writer. To be able to move people with words, the same way I have been moved, to touch hurts and tag at hidden emotions. It’s funny though how with age, our dreams die, our faith in ourselves withers and we let go of what we always believed we could do. We let go of our dreams and let people define us.
In the past two months I have had one of the most difficult times of my life. I dealt with broken relationships and constant disappointment. Feeling alone and as if no one understood. At such a time I could have used with the healing power of writing. But instead I wallowed in self-pity, all on my own and helpless.
So now am making a decision, to hold onto my dream and not let it go. I will be a writer, and with my words I will heal, touch, bless, influence, annoy and maybe even anger someone. The main point is that I will bring out an emotion in someone else that would have otherwise stayed untouched. I know I can do this, Lord help me!
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