that, after May 12th, my writing days are over.
That I will never again have this community, these due dates, my ruthless colleague down the hall who writes on the top of my manuscript "You know Tristen... I'm just not sure this is ready to workshop."
My students. My office. I commuted here, which makes for a half-ass grad school experience in many ways, but I'm suddenly panicking about how sad I will be to see it all go.
May 12th. The day of my thesis defense. The longest thing I've ever written, and everyone in the room has read it. And nobody outside the room has.
It's the damndest thing.
I will keep writing, even if I have to force myself. Actually, I don't know if there's a point to saying that. I've had many a "am I a real writer" crises as of late, so I still have to wonder... if you have to force yourself, is it really in you? Should you try if that's the case?
Anywho. I'm going to write more poetry.