Dear Writer's Block,
We need to talk.
Let me start by saying . . . it's not me, it's you.
It's totes you.
W.B., you're too . . . too . . . well, too you.
You just get in the way all the time!
Like, when Inspiration comes calling, you park yourself right in front of the door and refuse to budge, so I can't even crack open the door, much less let her in. You know how hard it is to get any time with her. Being ridiculously popular, Inspiration's always visiting people all over the place and so it's already hard enough to snag any time with her, and so if I want to hang out with her, I have to let her in when she comes; else she'll be off like a shot visiting someone else — and then who knows when she'll be back?? If she'll ever be back!
But you just sit there all big and bulky, squat and sulky, blocking the damn door!
And you never want me to hang out with any of my other friends, either.
Remember that time when I was trying to spend that completely platonic night with Fantasy Novel and you barged in in a rage? Like I said then, we had to sit close to each other on the same couch, W.B. How else could we possibly have been able to look at that tiny little map at the same time?
Or that other time when I was trying to visit Romantic Short Story, and you stole my keys so I couldn't leave? That was not okay. You get so controlling when you're jealous.
And it's not even like we have that great a time together! There's no magic in our interactions: our dialogue is stilted; our descriptions make milquetoast seem spicy; and our prose is like a drowning person gasping for air. How can you even blame me for wanting to go hang out with others?!
Sorry-not-sorry, W.B., but we're not a thing. I tried to tell you that you shouldn't get your hopes up — right from the beginning when you first chased me. I told you that it could only be a temporary thing — a situationship at best. We had some questionably fun times together — you know, "fun" for those who like the pain of isolation and alienation and all that —, but now, I'm happy to say, it really must end.
Now please don't do anything stupid — like rebound with someone else. That would be unkind to that person.
Just take some time for yourself. I hear yoga works for some people. Maybe try that. Or do some meditation. Touch grass. Whatever.
Oh, oh, I know! Go on a writer's retreat.
Just, please, whatever you do . . .
GO. AWAY.
It's over. We're over.
In fact, we never were.
Not Yours,
金妮