If you make friends with the impostor, eventually you’ll fall in love…Leigh M. Leitner
Tactically irrelevant my fingers are immobilized by thought. “I can’t do this, this isn’t me.”
I want to cry, overwhelmed at these self-imposed challenges, questioning their value. “Will this matter in ten years?” I think to myself. No one answers. I forget why the effort is being made and escape into writing for relief, though temporary. Deadlines approach. So many deadlines and I’m at odds with choosing to feel pressure before taking action and taking action to relieve pressure. I don’t want to follow guidelines, but when I do, it’s clear there’s more to learn and that I’ve more to offer no matter how tired I am of offering. She speaks highly of herself sometimes, to make up for the lowly way I feel. You can’t be an answer and a mistake at the same time, can you? No one ever replies, so she and I, we try to love without error, and both knowing its impossible nature, smile without apology, that our admission not be used against us.