Open Letter to You Know Who You Are

Part-broken, Part-whole

“You asked why I wrote. I said lost things.”
– Dave Smith

 

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I don’t write for sympathy. I don’t write because I revel in the image of an elusive, mysterious woman haunted by loss. I don’t write because I am a victim of social media validation. I don’t write because I need an audience to vindicate or vilify me. I don’t write for fame, or fandom, popularity or infamy. I don’t write for rewards. And I don’t write for you.

I write to be able to sleep at night. I write so I have something to wake up for. I write because it helps me hold on to sanity. I write because it reminds me I am alive and have a life that needs living. I write because it heals the constant wound. I write because for a few precious moments the words let me believe I have a…

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