There is a fresh, blank page sitting in front of me, and as I stare at it it seems to stare back. ‘It’s always so hard to get started’, I think. ‘I just wish I could get over the hump without climbing the hill. I feel like Sisyphus, every time I think I’ve gotten to the peak I roll back down to the start.’ I put my pen to the pristine white page and pause. Thinking. Agonizing over what sort of approach I will take this time. Will I be too eager? Will I lose interest? Is it going to be long enough, short enough, authentic or intelligent enough? Black ink has begun to pool where the pen’s tip is still pressed…

Here’s your story with proper paragraphing and a few minor grammar fixes: Together, as of today, we would never be apart again. We will always be together… Another night of spooning you, hugging you tight to my body, the warmth of our bodies meeting together is my favorite feeling in the world. I never want to let you go. I slowly close my eyes, that warmth being a constant reminder I’m with you, and I’m safe. But that warmth slowly fades. My eyes open—you’re putting on your clothes and getting ready? I call out in a tired voice, “What are you doing?” You reply in a soft, sweet voice, “I’m getting ready for work, hun.” I look at the clock,…

Here’s your story with proper paragraphing and a few minor grammar fixes: Together, as of today, we would never be apart again. We will always be together… Another night of spooning you, hugging you tight to my body, the warmth of our bodies meeting together is my favorite feeling in the world. I never want to let you go. I slowly close my eyes, that warmth being a constant reminder I’m with you, and I’m safe. But that warmth slowly fades. My eyes open—you’re putting on your clothes and getting ready? I call out in a tired voice, “What are you doing?” You reply in a soft, sweet voice, “I’m getting ready for work, hun.” I look at the clock,…

There is a fresh, blank page sitting in front of me, and as I stare at it it seems to stare back. ‘It’s always so hard to get started’, I think. ‘I just wish I could get over the hump without climbing the hill. I feel like Sisyphus, every time I think I’ve gotten to the peak I roll back down to the start.’ I put my pen to the pristine white page and pause. Thinking. Agonizing over what sort of approach I will take this time. Will I be too eager? Will I lose interest? Is it going to be long enough, short enough, authentic or intelligent enough? Black ink has begun to pool where the pen’s tip is still pressed…

Here’s your story with proper paragraphing and a few minor grammar fixes: Together, as of today, we would never be apart again. We will always be together… Another night of spooning you, hugging you tight to my body, the warmth of our bodies meeting together is my favorite feeling in the world. I never want to let you go. I slowly close my eyes, that warmth being a constant reminder I’m with you, and I’m safe. But that warmth slowly fades. My eyes open—you’re putting on your clothes and getting ready? I call out in a tired voice, “What are you doing?” You reply in a soft, sweet voice, “I’m getting ready for work, hun.” I look at the clock,…

There is a fresh, blank page sitting in front of me, and as I stare at it it seems to stare back. ‘It’s always so hard to get started’, I think. ‘I just wish I could get over the hump without climbing the hill. I feel like Sisyphus, every time I think I’ve gotten to the peak I roll back down to the start.’ I put my pen to the pristine white page and pause. Thinking. Agonizing over what sort of approach I will take this time. Will I be too eager? Will I lose interest? Is it going to be long enough, short enough, authentic or intelligent enough? Black ink has begun to pool where the pen’s tip is still pressed…