breaking the silence

for as long as i can remember, i have had a love affair with the written word.

i love books. i love to read what other people have to say. i look forward to being awed by an author's use of words, wondering how someone i have never met and will never meet can tell me exactly what i'm feeling. as though that someone did me the favor of ripping out those hesitant, garbled words stuck in my throat, allowing me to freely breathe again. i guess it's true that everyone feels the same way somehow, only not at the same time. we share the same humanity and the same human experience that although there is no way that one can know precisely what another is going through, i think that to someone somewhere, my encounters and my gibberish storytelling make a bit of sense.

and so after much forethought, with fingers crossed and deep breaths taken, i make this courageous attempt.

here goes nothing.