I found that to be a profound statement, being that I can only get to the core of me when I write versus when I speak. Probably due to nervousness more than anything, or perhaps- not knowing how to put something into words, because it means that much to me.
A couple of months back, I bought a Moleskine journal to chronicle the feelings that I couldn't put into words. This purchase was on purpose, because I planned to use it as though I was creating a novel of sorts; it was all of the thoughts and ideas that I couldn't find the right time for- or the right words for-- or the right anything to say at the time I was faced to do so.
When I purchased this journal and began the writing process, it was my intention to give the finished product to the one person who I made suffer so much from my lack of communication.
It is still my plan to do so- but I don't want my words on each page to be empty of their true meaning.
Believe it or not, I have plenty of room left. Good or bad? That's still up for discussion. Perhaps there is still room because there is still more to take place. Maybe there is still room because I actually found the courage to say the words that needed to be said. Or maybe, just maybe-- I ran out of things to say, and now it's all about my actions.
I'm not at a loss for words- rather, I'm beginning to know exactly what to do with them.
I can express myself much better through the written word too - the more I write, the more sense it makes.
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