Honoring a Request

"How come you stopped writing?" She asked. The question cut deep. I nearly cried... nearly. The tiny inquiry forced me to face a pattern of mistakes I seem to not be able to stop making. I'm a Taurus, and well, most people know how bulls tend to run right toward red flags. It hurt. I tried to muster an explanation. I tried to figure out how to play it off. What's my go to? Ahhh, yes. Sarcasm. Self deprecation. Make a joke. 

No.

An answer is required, here. 

Why did I stop writing? What was the truth? 

"Someone broke me." Is all I could pitifully squeak out, but it is the truth... was the truth. And I had let it happen again. 

There was a beat that lasted for ages, then a simple question, "Can I ask of you something?" A failed attempt at distraction later (but yes, please, anything to let me stop mourning this lost shard of my core)... the plaintive request. The command. The necessary push. 

"Please write." Two words I didn't hear. Two words I didn't see. Two words I felt. They rumbled through my chest like a distant, yet quickly approaching thunderstorm. 

In all honesty, I'm panicking. I'm so out of practice. So, I'm dipping my toes back into this familiar water. I have to. 

"Please write."

I want to. 

I think I shall. 

Thank you.