To my newfound PKB people, I’m thankful to have met you yesterday.
I asked for your contact details before I left, and I am doubly thankful you hit me back.
You see, most days, I am lonely. I live with my family, yes, but I’m still lonely.
To quench this thirst for human contact, I hug my kids (they oblige very much), I talk to my husband.
But there are things family can’t satisfy. If you think about it, I am limited to one adult-level conversation per day. Kids are company, but connecting with them requires a different dynamic.
The Spouse is okay to be with; we’ve lasted longer than the entire adolescence of most teenagers. BUT, I married my complete opposite. So, doesn’t give me some of my emotional needs.
At times, I’m too needy, too introspective, too emotional, too female for him.
I need more adult friendships.
And so, I had the good luck of meeting you yesterday. My life as a writer, you’ve already enriched it. I’m no longer alone. 不再孤单.
Because of my idiosyncratic ways, I’ve chosen to work alone—before I was a freelance writer, I was a stay-at-home mom. I cut myself off from my Chinoy family, and I cut myself off from greater society. I thought I could do it all by myself.
But I can’t. And you’re the one who got me out of a slump to write this. Thanks to you, I got it going again. And I would not have been propelled forward if there was nothing compelling to write about.
You’re awesome! You’re inspiring! Truth be told, I could not help but drool in admiration. Somewhere in my journey as a writer, I realized I have no sense of imagination; I can only write about stuff that really happened.
And you write fiction.
You see worlds I can’t; you create them.
I can’t help being the writer that I am.
Still, sometimes I wonder, what would it be like to write like you? Think like you?
I’m fascinated by the way you operate. I would like to know you better, please.
I’m pretty sure this aging 80s kid still got some juice. Along with juicy stories to tell.
Let me see how you do it. So I can forge my way forward again.
