Like many authors, life experiences inspire me. I draw from these experiences and write them into my work as a way of trying to understand them. Many of the characters you find in my work are similar to people I’ve met in real life. These are people that have influenced or affected me…just not consistently in a positive way.
Recently, I was scrolling through Facebook and I saw that a guy I once had feelings for was getting married. To be honest, I wasn’t shocked. Marriage and living a clean, wholesome life were on his to-do list. I expected this. More importantly, I’m in my own relationship. Still, I had to stop and stare at the photo of him and his fiance. Like we all do when Facebook stalking someone (he and I actually never dated, mind you), I put most of my eyeball focus on the new, lucky lady. Immediately, I begin to analyze her for her secret. How did she get him to fall in love with her, even start liking her? This was a task I could never achieve.
No matter how much I listened to him, sought him out for advice, tried to alter my views to fit his world perspective, we just never clicked. Some would say I should have told him about my feelings and maybe I should have. But we were working at a religious summer camp and he was “reborn.” If memory serves me correctly, he wasn’t even open to dating and was on some sort of cleanse which, of course, was his own right.
When the camp ended, months passed before I decided to check in on him to see how his new life was going. I had wanted to wait, hoped he would check in on me and the conversation could go from there with us eventually messaging one another constantly. Of course, that didn’t happen. What made it worse is that after I messaged him and we chatted for a bit, he never messaged me again. Like it was a one-time deal that I had initiated and he had no interest in reciprocating.
Now, I think it should be mentioned that this guy is the nicest person ever. Don’t let this post fool you. He’s not some stuck up jerk who played me which makes it even harder admitting this. The truth is that whatever I was, am, no matter how much I tried to mesh into his world, well, I didn’t fit and he saw that. Honestly, he was probably aware of it from the beginning. I was the dummy walking around in a fantasy.
So, yes, I was delusional but not blind. Looking at him now, I see that even after we stopped talking, he made an appearance in some of my writing. Sometimes he was the unachievable nice guy, other times the misunderstood bad boy that I had to work hard for and he even made an appearance as my boyfriend a few times. It blows my mind how after all this time he’s popping into my work. I didn’t even realize it at first. And he’s definitely not alone.
Family and friends I love or hate have made their appearances, as well. If anyone thinks using writing as a therapy is bull, just read some of my stuff and you’ll see it isn’t. The fact is what I live is what I write and what I write is what I’ve lived. And there’s no way of denying that.