NOTHING

BY WALLACE CALEB BATES

I sat down to write tonight, and nothing came. Not because I do not have things to say. 

I do. I am just not sure how to say them. My head is full, but the words are not lining up. Maybe it is because I am tired. 

Perhaps it is because I have felt a lot this week: gratitude, uncertainty, pressure, and affirmation. I have not had a moment to untangle it all.

It is strange to be someone who usually knows how to tell the story and not know where to start.

Still, I showed up, so that has to count for something.

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