I wrote three chapters tonight.
There wasn't any big epiphany or anything. I just, like, wandered over to the computer, sat down Indian-style on my chair, and brought up the file. Started to write.
The chapters were not lengthy, but they were also not easy. To some degree, each one is a little sliver of a certain type of heartbreak.
Ironically, I'm convinced the reason I was able to write--and write without even a shred of my usual writer's mania in me--is because I'm presently very, very happy. I'm nervous because I want this happiness to stick with me for a long, long time. I hope it will, feel like it will, but--of course--am mildly terrified that it won't.
I keep trying to tell myself that it doesn't matter, that I don't need anyone else to make me happy, but I have to admit, this is the first time in a long time that I've felt this amazing, and I don't think it's a coincidence that I was able to write so fluidly. My head is in the right place. And may this be just the beginning...