"Her"

Nothing

"I am nothing!" The words screamed in my mind made me pause. They were my own thoughts, but the finality of them made Her take notice.

Why? Why do you feel you are nothing? This is the true center of your feelings, isn't it? Why you can't finish anything. Why you always feel as if you are wasting your time.

"I feel as if you have wasted your time on me. I feel like I'm wasting my time, day after day, night after night. Tapping away, trying to turn my small words into more than the work of a hack writer with too much time on her hands. Why do you bother with me after all these years? What do I have to offer?" I'm nearly moved to tears, but know that such a self-pitying act would only be a waste of tears.

You are not the only one who has struggled with what should be and what could be on paper. Balance as much as you can, cross your fingers, and hope that you will be successful in this.

"I have to go beyond hope. I've read the best. I want to be the best."

No one is the best at the beginning of their literary career. Do you think Angelou, Poe, Hansberry, Byron, or Dumas wrote everything perfectly? They suffered to improve their craft. And so will you as long as continue to labor in this work. To know your work, your life, or yourself needs improvement does not make you nothing. It makes you a writer who needs improvement. If you were a hack, do you think anyone would pay you any attention?

"As usual, your logic shames me." I sigh. "I suppose I was overeacting, yet again."

She closes her eyes, and hums briefly. Your heart is strong. Stronger than most. But your damage from the past is still present within it. One would think there is an easy fix for you, but in truth, you have wounds that only time and truth can repair.

"I'm sorry to go back and forth over this with you. I wish this was easy. I wish writing was easy."