I used to write.

A lot.

Now I find it more difficult than ever. Recently I have been beyond insecure about my writing. I write paragraphs, single paragraphs, and before I can finish the last sentence I erase the entire paragraph in regret.  I can't seem to utter the right words anymore or pinpoint my exact feelings. Something changed.

Maybe it was my transition into a university? I don't know. Maybe I became so distracted by my academic writing that I forgot what it feels like to write narratives.

I remember how amazingly free it felt to write in my creative writing class. I didn't mind writing and reading my work aloud. And now, now I can't imagine reading something of mine to a friend, let alone a co-worker, a classmate, or a complete stranger. I encourage people everyday to make decisions, to run with their thoughts and write what they feel. I ask that people make bold decisions and assertions and to make their voice be heard, because after all, their voice counts - their voice means something. Yet, why can't I get myself to take my own advice?

I'm afraid that I've lost my voice.
I need to keep writing or else I feel as if I am never going to regain my voice.

When I first met Christopher, I spent so much time analyzing the value systems of others. I once wrote in a blue book to a professor about beliefs:
 "Dear Professor, this topic literally scared the shit out of me. Mostly because I have spent the later half of my life vacillating on the fence about my beliefs and on day one you have asked that I get off the fence." Yadda Yadda. I took philosophy and literature courses to understand the perceptions of others, to gain insight of the minds that have, likewise, questioned the motions of life.  And here I am, lucky me, standing off the fucking fence realizing that the most valuable things to me are: my voice, the freedom of voice, and love.

I'm just having some trouble writing it out.