Dating : I’m Dating My Writing, and It’s Hot

We started off keeping things casual.

Me reaching out only after I’d had one too many drinks and felt restless. A booty call in wordsmithing that led to the occasional blog post, poem or short story. In those instances, we were never meant to be consistent or meaningful, but passionate, sporadic, lost in the moment. I’d go back to read some of what we had created the night before and find typos, nonsensical rants, commas in the wrong place. But occasionally, I’d discover a gem — the perfect, pithy phrase, a witty reference I knew captured an idea beautifully — that brought me no end of pleasure. I knew I wanted more.

Like many frustrated creative types, I did Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way” a long time ago, and I remember “artist dates.” I knew if I wanted to seduce my writing, it would have to be a little sexier than that — I’d have to create more of a mood, a presence. I refused to subscribe to the idea that writing meant sitting in front of my laptop in my workout clothes. I wanted to dress up, put on lipstick, select a funky necklace or ring to wear. Find a cafe or a bar with a nice mix of murmuring conversations and music, order a cocktail and settle in with my thoughtful typing and daydreamy people-watching. Then we’d hang out for a while, my writing and I, just enjoying each other’s company and seeing where things led us.

That’s when we really started getting into each other.

My blog posts became less random and more regular, something I looked forward to doing each week. I’d carve out time over my lunch breaks for my writing, so we could check in and let each other know how our day was going. I became less of a commitment-phobe and more of an actual blogger, chiming in and responding to comments, reading new work by other writers I liked, keeping a notebook to jot down ideas and observations for new work I wanted to create.

I realized things were getting serious with my writing.

Lately, we can’t get enough of each other, so much so that when I wake up in the morning, writing is the first thing on my mind. Writing is my reason for wandering over to my couch in my bathrobe, opening my laptop, and getting some thoughts down. I get so lost in how it good it feels to write that I often forget what time it is and realize I’ll be late for work if I don’t hurry up and finish whatever I’m working on.

You know that feeling when your skin is more sensitive than usual and you’re interested in wearing less clothing because your lover has made you feel amazing? Well, my imagination feels like that right now. I’m curious about EVERYTHING. I want to experience all my senses and, with my writing by my side, turn those experiences into something helpful, inspiring, interesting for readers.

They say love is what happens to you when you’re not looking for it, not trying too hard, but letting things happen at their own pace. I guess you could say I’m falling for the possibility of being a real writer, not just a side-hustler or wine-drunk poet. I’m in a committed relationship for the long haul with my writing. Can’t wait to see where our future takes us.