I've been thinking about the Screenplay I Could Never Write. The one that's personal, and autobiographical, and co-stars two of my close close friends.
The one that tells the truth. The one that they could never, EVER read.
The one I actually feel like writing.
This is the pathetic thing about the past month, for me. The only thing I want to write about is myself. But I'm so bored of myself that the idea of writing my life down in anything but short bursts makes my head want to explode.
Except for this story. Because it's more than just me. It's about unrequited love, and pain, and awkwardness, and cruelty, and the ultimate betrayal.
At least, it would be, if I wrote it.
It would be writing, though. That's what counts, at this stage of the game.
I'm going to be housesitting at the end of this month - which is a fun exciting thing, I've come to decide. I get to hang out with dogs and see a new town and visit fun places and fun friends.
And I might have time. Time to write this. The only story I feel like telling.