You Crush Me…

Isn’t it funny how funerals bring family members together when nothing else ever seems to manage it? You know… you talk about it: “We really need to get together”, and “You should come see us” and “Let’s keep in touch” – oftentimes all that talk took place at the last family funeral – but despite all good intentions, you never quite get around to making that trip or writing that email until it’s time for the next funeral. And isn’t it funny, too, how even in the middle of these sad occasions (or maybe because of these sad occasions) we remember why we wanted to keep in touch in the first place?

My brother-in-law’s funeral was last week and amid the reminiscing, tears, stories and laughter, we reconnected with my husband’s only other brother.

Now I said all that to get to this: Apart from being a really nice guy, T is a really smart guy. He has a Doctorate (I don’t know exactly what in, but it’s pretty impressive – knows Greek and Hebrew and all that. Taught it at the college level even. Suffice to say – a brilliant mind.) Well, T is currently between positions and, with a little time on his hands, he decided to try his hand at writing screenplays.

And he is so excited!

He wanted to talk about writing, to compare experiences, share inspirations, to tell me all about his plots and characters and plans and to hear all about mine – he is giddy over the thought and idea and craft of writing.  It shines from his eyes and bubbles up from within him. He is infatuated, floating on a cloud. He is in love.

I used to be in love just like that. Just like having a crush on a boy who likes you back – writing liked me back.

I’d wake up in the morning itching to open the computer and lose myself in whatever story I was working on. Stars aligned, muses cooperated, my lovely partner Tina and I would psychically connect across the miles and internet connections and we would make magic. Writing and me were a couple

I have already confessed to being in a total, complete, dark-tunnel-with-no-light-at-the-end, slump, so I have to admit that I was jealous when faced with T’s newly budded romance. I miss that so much and I’ve been trying to get it back. That first love – the flush of infatuation when you can’t think of anything or anyone else but your characters and story. I’ve been reaching and stretching for it, trying different tricks, changing my hair, putting on new lipstick, jumping up and down waving my hands to get the attention I crave—and every attempt fails and I’m so worried that maybe me and writing are through. Is our relationship over? Is it time to go our separate ways even though the thought of it breaks my heart?

And so I’ve been thinking…  

It’s obvious that the first flush of love is over. The mutual crush has faded, but that happens doesn’t it? Like in real life, with a real person, those highs of emotion are simply not sustainable. You have a crush, and you’re giddy and floating on air, but if the love is real, it eventually settles down into something deeper and more abiding – something that, with care and maintenance, will last.

And so I thought some more…

And I think I need to stop chasing the elusive past. It ain’t coming back – writing and I know each other too well and my desperate attempts to recapture the old days are just driving us further apart. I think it’s time to focus on nurturing a more mature relationship. I still love writing, down to my very soul, and I have faith that writing still loves me. Maybe if I stop pushing and striving, we can find our common ground again. Maybe we’ll stop taking each other for granted. Maybe we’ll find each other again.

And who knows… maybe we’ll find some of that joy again.

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