Sitting in my office, staring at the blank screen, I let a frustrated huff fill the empty space around me. I've been looking at the same white page for almost two weeks- a writers block I felt had come and gone when I finally finished my last novel... But my lack of motivation seems have come in full worse, yet again.
"Fuck," I mumble, two hands falling on my desk to push my chair as far away from work as possible.
Sinking down a little further, I roll my eyes gently at myself, really. I was on such a good roll for such a long time and then, of course, when I need it the most- I lose whatever energy I had managed to conjure up.
"Knock, knock." Her voice causes me to jump, but once I turn around, a smile dances across my face.
A deep sigh of relief escapes me when my eyes meet Lori's. "Just when I thought I was going to crawl back into my bed for the day." Smirking lightly, I watch as she trails into the room, setting her bag down on the accent chair.
She chuckles, plopping down on the loveseat a moment later. "I figured you'd still be locked away in your dungeon." She raises a brow, shaking her head as her eyes drift around my office.
Everyone around me has referred to this sanctuary as a "dungeon" for years, probably because this is where I'm at more often than not. I feel safe in this room- like nothing happening outside of these walls even matters, though I know that it does... I just feel like I can escape when I'm right here, tucked away and working.
Shrugging my shoulders, I reach out to cradle my cup of coffee, though it's already grown cold. "Keeps me busy," I nod, taking a quick sip but regretting it just seconds later.
"Hmm," she smiles lightly, crossing one leg over the other and I just now realize that I look like a hot mess compared to my sister- in- law.
I'm still in my pajamas, even though it's already a little past noon, though I've been awake since before eight, but that's not abnormal for me these days. I used to get up by six every morning, get three kids ready for school and a husband out the door for work before I sat down for a couple of hours to write, then I'd go hold regularly scheduled PTO meetings. I spent twenty- five years being a full time wife and mother... I don't know how to function with an empty home... I really don't.
"What's the new book about?" She's always curious about my work- just like my kids, who would sit on the floor in here for hours on end when she was little. I adored that.
Biting down on my lower lip, I set my ceramic mug back down on the wooden platform. "A dying husband and a wife that's completely in denial." It comes out fairly deep, probably because it is... It's deep and realistic.
She sighs, eyes filled with this pure sense of sadness. "Stevie," her voice has transitioned into this dreadful tone, kind of like a whine.
Shaking my head, I close my eyes gently. "I don't want to talk about it." I have said those words a million times since the morning he fell getting out of bed.
I remember it like it was yesterday, even though I wish I could erase it from my memory... There have been many moments in my life like that, but it's still incredibly heartbreaking for me. It was a Saturday morning, he had lost his balance and grew completely numb on his entire left side... I can still feel my racing heart as I tried to call for help as fast as I could, though my hands were shaking and the only thing I seemed to focus on was the sound of him breathing... it was music to my ears in those long minutes waiting for help.
I have a thousand undesirable emotions that are totally bottled up and not even writing can help me escape it this time.
Before she gets the chance to continue our conversation, I push myself out of my chair. "I should probably get around, huh?" I give her a soft smirk, "This grandma can't miss the ballerina's performance." I shrug my shoulders a tad as a cheesy, cheeky smile trails across my face.
