i wrote about him in the car today

it was in my head. but i was driving. so i wrote about him inside of my head while my head was inside the car.

does it matter?

maybe. maybe not.

what does matter is that i thought to write about him.

what matters most is that while i wrote about him i also wrote about me and about life and about love and about goodness.

i felt happy - that's the kicker:

i don't write happy. no real writer does. or, at least, no real writing ever gets done when its not about pain.

any pain mentioned was just about withstanding it. it was about understanding it and living with it.

it wasn’t really ever actually about him, at all. it was about learning how to write something real without dying because of it.

it was about me.

so, actually, he wrote about me in the car today. but I was driving. so he wrote about me inside of my head while my head was inside the car and his wasn’t.

does it matter?

definitely.