Words fail me.

Lately I have found myself staring blankly, tapping on the keyboard, or clicking my pen as I leaf through pages of one of my many notebooks.
I love to write, and if you've known me for long, you would surely know that I spend every free moment jotting down thoughts, lists, ideas, prayers...anything that can be written. Recently this incessant writing has slowed, nearly to a complete stop. And the reason, I feel, is that I am utterly tired, and perhaps lacking encouragement.

I write thought after thought, with the hopes that it will touch someone, even one person's heart. And so, writing without response, leaves me feeling quite defeated. Why write when it doesn't mean anything? Why not move on to something else?
And perhaps, in the more intimate parts of me, why keep holding out my heart?

I'd think that this is a feeling most of us can relate to. For the most part, we prefer to hide, contradictory to the deep longing we have to know and be known.

It leaves me in a pickle, because as much as I desire to persevere, I love to write and share my heart, but when it recieves poor response, or equally as painful, no response, I start to shut down. My heart is weakened, believing that the things I am going through, maybe they really aren't relatable. Maybe it really doens't matter whether or not I share my heart.
And so I am left, staring blankly at a screen, frustratedly tapping at the keys.