Writing is my friend. With a pen in my hand and something to write on, we connect. My mind has ideas, but when I spend time putting the words together in strings of meaning, I understand more of what I want, more of what I know, and I like myself further than I ever thought possible.
Writing shows me how kind and thoughtful I can be. Writing helps me understand the quality of my love. Writing gives me purpose when I am so full of ideas that I can hardly contain myself. Writing never lies; it just tells me what I know or even reveals what I wasn't sure about.
Writing makes me happy. Writing offers joy.