I always wanna write. 

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Always wanna say something. I have so much say and write but sometimes the one thing I find most satisfying is just the silence. I wanted to write a book. A book about women and our lessons. I wanted to pass it down from my children to their children and so forth. I began writing and then stopped. And then started and then stopped. I keep telling everyone it’s because I wanna live more, love more. And it’s true. I am still a young woman and still understanding life in itself. I am patient, as patient as I can be. I thought I gave up that dream of mine, in all honesty, I got scared. Scared because with writing, I mean writing with passion comes skeletons and with skeletons comes pain and unwanted memories. But how else can we heal if we don’t greet our what scares us the most? It’s the honesty part, the truth that comes from words. It’s not because I don’t think I’m not a good writer, I still have a lot of work to do to even consider myself to be a great writer, but what I’ve been learning the most is that as long as one person can relate and feel and grow and heal from your words that’s all that matters. Because at the end of the day all I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted, to do was help. Sometimes I just need silence to regroup and gather my thoughts. Silence is comforting and the raspiness of Amy helps too. I will get back to that. 

Eventually.

Written February 15,2015

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