This is an article about longing, as a writer, one I can identify with. Yes, sometimes it is dormant, off on the backburner, but at time it can seem like the only thing in one’s vast world. Sometimes it’s seasonal, as if longing for a loved one. Although, many people keep it bottled up instead of talking about it. Should we talk about our longing?
- Sometimes I wonder if I was born with an unmet longing. I don’t know where it came from, or if it will ever leave.
- To repent I starved and ran as far and fast as I could from something that was so a part of me that my attempts were futile.
- Longing reminds me of grief and looks a lot like love. Crashing waves, sorrow, and serendipity. It’s sultry and toxic and insistent.
“the desire for something I’ve yet to identify is dormant. I wonder if maybe it’s mysteriously left—or in some way been fulfilled—tempered for a time.”