Writers block (n): the phase a writer goes through when they cannot think of what to write or how to proceed on in their writing.
It should be easy. It shouldn't take years to fetch out the words you wish to say. It shouldn't take years to write out your emotions, your feelings and plunge them on a blank canvas hoping the world would see.
But truthfully it's not "easy". It's simply hard to continue onward when only one word blocks out the rest. The dictionary you're mindset becomes; it's completely filled to the brim with a simple word, everything else becomes a blur in a world of color.
It's hard to dream when every dream you have is lost beyond the world you had hoped would allow you in. They don't. Benched with confusion, you begin to dream in heights and every height you reach lays a sign with that word on it.
How could four magical letters leave such a massive impact on a person that doesn't even dare to dream?
The question I should be asking is, why did it take years to find her, only to have my world stitched back together by that one word?
I sat one seat behind that word. One seat, and yet I couldn't gather the courage to speak in sentences. One seat, and i couldn't even speak, only watch as everything before me crumbled into a wake of false hope.
I was baffled by every thought of her, every memory became a crucial step in a spiraled staircase with only railing to yield me onward. Every step only led me a foot closer to her and every time I took one giant leap, she had somehow moved even further.
It was from that moment I knew I had made the first impression, and somehow that word was all she gave me, hope.
