english,
Literary (Submission): For A Love That Stays
Like any other night before the deadline, I stare at a blank page. I type in a few words, but I still end up pressing the backspace button halfway through the whole thing. I have done this more times than I can count and it never gets easier.
During our years in MC, we wove stories mined from the depths of our hearts and revived from the back of our minds. And no matter how many stories we've told, there's always enough for another pub night.
We wrote of love, joy, pain, sadness, anger, and many other things that kept us up at night. But being the impressionable teens that we were and maybe still are, we wrote mostly about love.
Tonight, I write about a different kind of love.
The love for writing after graduation is a love that surprises you. It's not the kind of surprise that you secretly anticipate, that you know is waiting for you despite how elusive it tries to be. It's the kind of love that knows its place in your heart and so has no need for any flashy comebacks. It's the kind of love that sits comfortably in its little nook, waiting for you to call upon them. It surprises you because of how well it fits into everything despite how things have changed.
I admit that I have become rusty. Words don't come as easily as they used to. But they do come eventually! Bits and pieces from old articles and old lits come to mind and find their place in scripts and letters. Words like "rather" and "seemingly" and "plethora" are scattered around reflection papers and reports. And each time such words make an appearance, I am always amazed.
I once thought that I had to go on long voyages to find these words again, thinking that they were lost and no longer to be found. It's the same thing with my memories in Room 115. I wondered where they went and how I could even dare to forget the (almost) 24 hours and 7 days a week that I spent thinking about the magic made in that room and the people we made it with.
But as I meet friends I made in that very room after months since graduating from all that orderly chaos, I realized that some things are not meant to be found, simply because they were never lost. Memories and words come so easily when called upon and even as you write the most mundane of papers or the simplest of scripts, and as you see your writers and fellow editors in parties or along hallways, you remember the love that keeps them afloat.
And so, the love for writing never leaves because the memories and words always find ways to stay.
Thank you, MC, for a love that stays.
Love,
Ms. Takes
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