A love letter to creativity

Dear Creativity,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written. Since I’ve even thought about you. I’ve gotten your letters, but I hesitated to open them. They sat neatly stacked on the darkest corner of my bookshelf for years since you left. I was afraid they’d remind me too much of when you were here.

I opened one today. It was kind. You are kind. I’d forgotten how funny you are, in our time apart. 

I guess I’m to blame for the distance. 

I’m writing this letter to reconnect. I miss how bright you are, how clever and spontaneous. They way you’d take me on adventures, without even leaving my room. All you needed was a pen and paper, and off we went. I miss the things we made together, the songs we’d sing, and how you made me feel. I miss the way the stars shined when we walked under the shadow of the old trees, dodging spiderwebs in the darkness.

Music isn’t as nice without you. Life lacks meaning. I’m locked inside a vicious cycle that traps me in my mind. My head is filled with the lives of other people and their thoughts, while me and mine are swept beneath the tidal wave of Never’s.

Never good enough

Never finished

Never the right time

Never

Never

Never.

But here I am. Despite the ever persistent cloud that likes to loom over my hands when I draw or write, the thought of seeing you again spurs me on. The idea that one day I may express myself as freely as when I was a child is a siren song, calling me into the depths of creation once again. And in those depths, to my surprise and my sorrow, I have found that you truly never left. 

You’ve been waiting for me, in the stillness of my mind, holding out a pen with a smile. When all the noise is gone, I can hear your voice. 

How sweet a reunion, and how bitter the time I wasted looking for you in places you weren’t. 

Because in your kindness, you’ve been here the whole time.

Thank you for staying.

Love,

MC