Yesterday, I made a new friend. I like this friend. (I am still trying to decide what his nickname will be.) We discussed my writing, specifically my blog, and he complimented me on how I can write every day. I never thought about writing being unenjoyable or difficult for people. I hadn't thought about that because I love to write so much.
Some days, I find myself struggling to find something connected to love to write about. Other times, I find I have too many things to say and can't write it all done quick enough. Today is one of those days where I wish I had a little more motivation or inspiration.
Part of me misses chronicling my love life, especially when I am excited about the person I've just met and am bursting with the desire to share every little detail. But I am holding true to my choice of not sharing that with all of you anymore.
Today, with my cheeks pink from yesterday's sun, and my back sore from tubing, I am grateful for my life. I am even more grateful for this gift of loving to write. I had not thought about writing as something displeasing, nor as something I could live without. I just forget to appreciate my desire to write and my passion for it that drives me to keep a blog and keep writing.
My love for writing, and actually enjoying the act of writing, is mine, and mine alone. I would not have it any other way. And even on days when I need some motivation, I still push through to write because it's something I love.
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