Here We Go.

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I love empty spaces.
I love empty airports and empty hallways and empty beaches.
I love the way they seem to echo with memories.
I love the way anticipatory potential vibrates through them.

I love empty pages.
Sometimes, I forget that.

Instead of starting again, I squeeze in my stories onto a single page. I fill up the margins until the words are cramped and crowded. I'm too afraid to turn the page. To start again. How could a blank Nothing be as good as the story I'm writing now?

But turning the page doesn't mean the story is over. It means the story is progressing.
And it's not Nothing. The indents from my firm pen press through the pages, creating permanent watermarks throughout the chapters. All my former pages impact my future stories.

This blog is an empty page, but it isn't Page One.
I'm not starting over. I'm just moving forward. I'll take the best characters and lines with me, but the rest will stay behind. And that's okay.

Because I love empty spaces. And this one is just waiting for a story to be written.

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