Empty

I’ve had a hard time writing lately.

I have a lot to say, and several platforms to say it all on, but when I sit down in order to write, I end up staring at a blank page for too long.

I begin writing and end up erasing what I wrote because it doesn’t add value.

That’s what I want to do, though: add value to the world. So if what I’m saying doesn’t “add value” I don’t want to share my words. I want to keep them to myself and never let anyone else see them.

In a lot of ways, I’ve felt empty.

Like there’s this void inside of me, where I know what I want to say, but I don’t know how to say it.

And for me, that’s a problem.

But it doesn’t have to be.

I love social media. I’ve made some great friends over social media that I have never met in person, and may not meet in person for years to come, if ever.

But we use social media like it’s our entire camera roll where we see every moment of people’s lives, unfiltered, despite the fact that we know that’s not true.

My social media is my highlight reel, and I know that holds true for billions of others around the world.

The beautiful thing about it is that I don’t have to have words all the time.

My feeds, my sites, my profiles are for me and no one else.

It’s been a few months that I have felt empty.

And that’s not a bad thing.

We don’t always need words. We don’t always need to have the perfect words to say something.

Sometimes—most of the time—the few words we have are enough.

So this is me hoping that these few words are enough.

This is me hoping that my emptiness and honesty is filling for you.

This is me hoping that these imperfect words are, in their own way, perfect.

And that in our emptiness, in our longing, in our honesty, we might feel like we have a bit more company around us.

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