Acknowledging the words.

Hi. Its been quiet in this space lately. But its been really loud in my head. The words are always there, begging, demanding my attention. I try in vain to hush them up. I tell them that they have already been spoken by so many other people, why do they think that I need to speak them too? Are they never satisfied? Is their time on stage never long enough? Can't they see I have a teething, clinging baby and supper to make? Apparently, the answer is no. They show up in the middle of everything and refuse to leave until I've looked them in the eye and acknowledged them.

So this is me, acknowledging that the words are there. That they have always been there and most likely always will be there. I can't escape them. And so I will write them.

I will write them for the woman I am in five, ten, and thirty years. That woman will no doubt be quite grey, seeing as how The Greys have made their debut in her postpartum curls. She will answer questions about boys instead of moose. She will feel a bit more rested, hopefully. And she will be very very glad that she wrote words. In fact, if she were to chose any other number of worthy endeavors over writing, she will have deep regret. Writing is what makes her come alive.

And when I am old, I want nothing more than to have lived. Really lived.