that’s the thing about dating a writer.

but maybe it’s not the thing you think.

because so many times, i’ve written the lashing, tongue-sharp, righteous rejection poem. i’ve fit myself right into the cliche of the spurned writer (the female spurned writer?) and i haven’t been ashamed of it. sometimes, the writing is good. most of the times the writing is bad. sometimes i share it. most times i don’t.

this is different. the words slide out in a different way. it’s maybe more about honouring something as opposed to denigrating or eroding something. i wasn’t sure that the writing would ever be good without the driving force of anger behind it. i’ve relied on anger and the idea of anger and the cushion and push of anger for a long time, and i think i’ll still continue to rely on it – at least partially – for lots more of my life. but for now, there is no anger. and while that seems scary because it allows for other, deeper-running feelings to emerge – doubt, sadness – it feels okay. angry writing is still fine – some of my most recent better poems are stoked by a good, thick anger – the luscious sin of wrath. but it could be time to release the hold on that, too.

i know my sadness is not unique sadness. i don’t know how to put my feelings into words without sounding ungrateful in the face of so much cruelty and so much adversity that happens, around me, all the time. with all the nasty shit that goes on, with all of the realisation of how privileged i am, how lucky i am in all aspects of my life, really – when it comes down to it, a heart-dent doesn’t sound like much.

the vastness of human emotion and human decision is too unintelligible and too bruising sometimes. i don’t know how people really do it – ride it headfirst, ready for endorphins and maybe a victory.

we grow, we learn, we feel things, we realise that we’re just tender meat with the ability to be bruised – and recover. we create in the face of loneliness, and we often create lovely things, even when we don’t feel so lovely. we immortalize people who have meant something to us in the most powerful medium – words. we make them even more beautiful.

that’s the thing about dating a writer. if you make them sad, you don’t always get flagellated with a brutal poem or story. sometimes, you have something really beautiful written about you.