As I sit here in 2nd period on a Friday, I think I realize what it is that’s holding me back from writing. I’m too worried about writing something I care about. Something personal. The story which is in my head all day. Every minute of my time is occupied with the stories that I’ve had in my head since I was 4. These are my best, the ones I care for more than anything. All I want is for these stories to be real. And I think that is why I don’t write them. Because once I write them, I’ll realize that the only place they can exist is on paper. And that’s depressing. But maybe I’m wrong to not write these down. Maybe my reason for not writing them isn’t true. I mean after all, they’re not going to be real anyway, so might as well write them down. Although the feelings may one day be true for me, and I believe they will, those exact events I dream of are only ever going to be fantasies. The most real they can ever be is if I either A) make them a reality, or for those that are just too specific, B) write them down. I need to create a world for these characters and journeys to live in. The only way to do that is it get it onto paper. And that is what I intend to start doing. I’ve spent too much time ignore the romances that are living in my head. These characters were born in my head, and I don’t think they can grow into their true potential until I document them. I also just don’t think I can move on unless I write them down. I feel like the only way to get them out of the cage of my head is with the pen (or keyboard) as a key. And that is what I intend on doing.