My relationship with writing can be compared to a cliché Nicholas Sparks romance novels. It's a typical fall-in-love and fall-out-of-love story, which ends with the once broken up couple magically finding their way back to each other. At first, I had this deep passion to write my soul onto paper. I would conjure up fictional stories that had a connection to what I was going through at that moment. Then slowly over the years, my passion dwindled down to almost nothing. The intense romance lost its flame, and writing and I lost touch with each other. Occasionally, we would reconnect through standard english assignments and history essays. Writing has never failed me. Even through the rough valleys of our relationship, writing always has my back. It picked me up from the ground and helped me through hours of essay drafts and editing. Most of all, writing helped me pass high school.
However, it isn’t like how it was before. It is dull, unemotional, and in ways irritating. I questioned my new relationship with writing. How did I lose what I genuinely loved before? It was my go to confidant; it was my dream. I suspect that along the way I had an affair with math and science. Math was so intricate and so complex that I itched to learn more about its many personalities. Physics grasped me before I could object and took me in its arms with care. It showed me the meaning of life, how the world works, and gave me a more practical knowledge. I had a passionate affair with physics, and it was great. We tossed around with Newton and found gravity together. I felt weightless.
I want to reconnect with my first love. To at least be on good terms. Writing has been neglected for 6 years, and it is time to break that habit. Writing for the media is my match.com to connect me with my old relationship. I am prepared to write thousands of essays and poems until writing and I get back our emotional connection. It is time to welcome my first love back into my life. Maybe one day, we will be in love once more.
