I want to fill you, I really do.
I want the hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of words that are circling in my head to find their way back to you.
I want to ask you questions and evoke answers that challenge me to see new shades of gray.
I want to enlist you to share my dreams and find like-minded visionaries.
I want to tell you about my day, my week, my month, my year.
I want to fill you with happy pictures of sunsets, puppies, and long-lost friends.
I want to use your space to bravely go first and permit others to say ‘me too.’
And I want to exercise your expanse to untangle everything I am thinking and feeling.
But instead, I’ve got nothing, but this.
Blank. White. Page.