Inspired again, one day at a time

Recently, I've been inspired to write again.

I've found the courage to tell my stories. For now, at least.

It will keep on taking effort. It will require a daily dose of courage.

But it's an effort I want to make. Because am I a writer. Because that is how I connect with my world. Because that is how I create today, dream for the future, and make peace with the past.

I also want to travel the world. But that won't happen for at least another three years. So my goal for these three years, is to write. Daily. To tell the truth about the world, the way I see it. To share my journey with others, to challenge, identify with, inspire, or encourage other people in theirs.

At the end of three years, I want to have written enough to fill a book. I don't know what it will be about. I don't even have an overarching theme in mind. Yet. But I know it will be about love, culture, faith, technology, distance, and meaning.

I don't have a writing plan to get there - but I can write a little, a day at a time. So I'll start with that. I'll write what compels me. I will be honest. I will be real.

And we'll see where that takes me. It's going to be quite a journey.

Today's piece is titled, "Welcome to the real world", and it's based on a true story. That is all the additional detail I will reveal about this story.

Tell me what you think about it? :)

"They sat in Starbucks, facing each other in awkward silence. She, staring out the glass walls, looking out at the city traffic below, but not really seeing anything. Her body was here, but her mind refused to accept it. This was not happening. He was not sitting opposite her, so calmly, after three months apart, after The Phone Call.

The phone call had not happened. She didn't, in frustration and despair, tearfully demand to know what the hell was going on. He didn't slam the phone down and say he was done with this. With all of this, with her.

The last three months hadn't happened. He hadn't blown into her life like a whirlwind, out of nowhere, shaking up everything she had worked for and believed in. He didn't make her think, and challenge her more than anyone had before. He didn't bowl over her parents and friends in exactly the same way he swept her off her feet. He didn't make her feel like a princess, like the Most Important Girl in the World. And she didn't fall in love with him.

And he didn't leave, one week later, before making her his girlfriend, with the promise that he would be back. He didn't speak of glittering hopes for the future, of moonlight dancing and jazz bands and riverside walks, of Sunday mornings skipping to the market, of waking up in the same bed together. And she didn't believe him." Read the rest.