Dear First Novel,
When we first met, you filled my days and nights with such joy. I wanted to spend every moment with you. I know the feeling was mutual--especially when you would tap me on the shoulder and whisper sweet dialogue in my ear, or wake me in the middle of the night to tell me your secret plot lines.
I loved you so much that I never minded all the late nights I spent caressing you. All of the early mornings, stroking and smoothing, gently prodding to bring out the
real you. Your needs and wants always came before mine. I was there for you in your self-doubt, boosting your confidence, and reassuring your ego.
Then you became needy, and I abandoned my family and friends to lavish attention on you, but you still insisted we spend more time together. They say that love is blind, and I was surely blinded by your empty promises, and too much in love to see that even though we went all the way together, we could only go so far.
Embarrassed by your erratic behavior, I started making excuses for you, but that became tiring, and I no longer believed in you. I'm ashamed to say that even while I spent time with you, I found myself thinking of others.
And now, there is another. Another haunts my dreams at night--a carefree spirit that begs me to tell their story, and I yearn to write it. Yes, I know you think me fickle, but the attraction is so strong, so intoxicating, that I cannot ignore it.
Our time together was exciting, inspiring, and oh so memorable, and I will always remember what we learned about each other, but it's time to move on. I'll never forget you, or what we had together.. Who knows? Some day, perhaps fate will join us again. Until then, I remain...
Your biggest fan,
Denise
