Dear Writer’s Block,
I hate to do this in a letter, but you’ve given me no other choice. See, here’s the thing: you always disappear when I confront you. So I’m just going to leave this on my desk and assume you find it.
All the usual cliches assault me as I sit down to tell you why we have to break up: it’s not you, it’s me; our lives are heading in different directions; I have a strong suspicion that you’re seeing other people. But cliches become cliche because they’re true.
It isn’t you, it’s me. I’m willing to take ownership of that. The truth is I know plenty of people who would be happy with you. I’m just not one of them anymore. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but keeping you in my life would be nothing short of settling, and I’m deciding I deserve the best. Which brings me to my next cliche.
Our lives are heading in different directions. You’ve already found your life’s purpose. You know you’re meant to frustrate people and keep them distracted from writing. You are the voice in authors’ heads insisting their ideas aren’t good enough. I’m happy you’ve found your purpose, but I’m finding mine, too. My purpose is to write. Surely even you can see that we’re just not compatible anymore. I must stop using my relationship with you as an excuse, so I have to end our relationship.
Not that your influence is entirely negative, by the way. I don’t want you to think that. I wouldn’t be such a master at Bejeweled without you. I doubt my house would be as clean, or my other art projects finished. My sock drawers are organized, my books alphabetized, and my Netflix queue has never been so close to empty. But that’s not what I’m looking for in a partner. Among other things, I am looking for fidelity. And, per cliche number three, I’m sure you’re seeing other people.
When I ask my writing friends what they’ve been writing recently, they bow their heads and mention you. Embarrassed, yes, but they seem to be unaware of our long-term relationship. Am I that unimportant to you?! Sometimes I think you’re chasing after anyone with the potential to take your bait, just hoping to get them cozy in bed with you rather than their laptop. Yeah, I get it, you have a life’s purpose you’re trying to fulfill.
But from my vantage point, you’re just a cheating workaholic with no concern for me or my feelings or my own work. So that’s it. We’re done. For real this time, too, none of that on-again off-again stuff you tease me with.
P.S. Your brother’s kinda attractive. You know the one. Procrastination. I hope you won’t be offended if we hook up sometimes. He’s already promised me a long weekend getaway.