Reflections

I'm scared. I'm nervous.

What if I've lost "it?" What if I never had "it?"

Will my friends notice? Will my family care?

Why did I stop in the first place? 

Why did I even start in the first place?

As I've thought about sitting at this keyboard to write, these are the thoughts that have been swirling amidst everything else that occupies my life.

School, relationships, work, sickness, exercise, holidays. It's all a jumbled mess, but somewhere in there is my dormant desire to be sitting here, right here where I am, writing.

My feet are freezing. But my coffee is warm. My hands are out of practice, and my mind is trying to recollect, to reorganize. It's like riding a bike, but much more vulnerable. I can't skin my knees, but I can rub my heart the wrong way if I'm not careful.

How did I ever do this before?

The thoughts continue.

Regardless of those thoughts, though. I'm here. I'm typing, or writing (if that's what you want to call this jumbled mess).

I'm back because I need to be. Because I've realized this last month and a half that life will always be there to get in the way of what you love to do. I will always be sick and taking extra medicine. I will always have work to do. I will always have relationships to tend to, people to love.

I want, though, above all else, to always be writing, regardless of life's twists and turns. Regardless of these thoughts.

But what if no one reads this?

So what?

That never stopped me before. Why should it now?