Dear Writer's Block

Dear Writer’s Bock,

It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sorry I haven’t been returning your calls. It’s just that I don’t think you’re the one for me.

The only time you come around is when I do not want you. Where are you when I’m not crunched for time and desperately trying to meet a deadline? I cannot cherish the time we have together if you’re swarming me with your incessant nature when I’m stressed.

It really is nothing personal, I just don’t think I’m the best version of myself when you’re around. Who wants to be around me when I’m pulling out my hair, breaking a sweat, and anxiously pacing around the room? You know those late nights where you’d be around, and then would suddenly leave when I was just getting used to you? Is it bad if the next morning I would feel relieved and wouldn’t call you? Doesn’t sound like the most stable and healthy relationship to me. You drain me Writer’s Block, and make me feel inadequate as a writer.

Another reason I don’t think we are good for each other is the fact that I need inspiration. It seems like the only way I’m ever going to find that is if I’m not with you. Everybody needs their “Mr. Right”, right?

Somewhere down the road you will find that someone special, your “better half”. You have so much going for you: malevolence, an unyielding determination to make my articles terrible, and the ability to distract me for hours, even days, from my work. With a little bit of that grit you used to inflict stress and misery upon me, you could find your soul mate.

I hope you find happiness eventually Writer’s Block, whether that means you’re making someone else’s life a living hell or not. I do also hope eventually that we can be friends.

Sincerely,

Aimee O’Connor