It’s just past six in the morning and I should be working on “Cradled” right now, but “Staged” (the most recent story idea to come to mind) is chewing right through my gray matter, trying to get out. It’s not a bad thing, except that I need to finish “Cradled” (and really, “Amateur” as well) before I start it. As it is, the energy of this one has taken such a hold that I can hardly think about anything else. Driving has been completely on autopilot to the point that I forgot my purse at work yesterday (which had my notebook in it, or else I would have left it until my return today) and had to drive back for it–two hours wasted on driving when I could have been finishing up “Cradled”. Thankfully, I still got “Papercuts” done last night. But “Staged”…

It has been a few months since I’ve had a muse so enrapturing that I have felt consumed by it/him/her. In this case, a him. The funny thing about this one is that it isn’t the person who initially prompted the idea in the first place, but the one who I actually got to speak with about the story. That whole idea of keeping the “I’m putting you in my story” to myself? Yeah, I totally blew that on Sunday evening when I actually garnered enough courage to open my mouth about it. For one of the very few times, it has had a fortunate outcome and no “weirdness” has resulted. Instead, I feel creatively bound to this person and, not only is he the real driving force to “Staged”, but he has also found a part in a book/screenplay I started a few years ago. I have a feeling that these two pieces of writing will not be the only ones he helps me breathe life into. I wish there was some way to repay people when they do this for me–so far, there isn’t. It’s a gift beyond anything else that exists. I’ve yet to experience anything that tops it–by tangible means or otherwise. The only thing that can begin to even come close to what it brings to me is being in love, and even that may be only a close second…I feel like I’m going to burst–like a new universe has just been created inside of me and it’s expanding with every new moment. Nothing else does that for me. I am so indebted right now that it’s almost painful. Almost.

It’s funny to me how other muses have come along and experiences have been similar. This time it has been–more. More what? I can’t say, but it’s intense. It is heartbreaking to think that I’ll probably never cross paths with this person again. Life is funny though. I can’t guarantee that I will never get to stand in his presence and revel in that, along with those fleeting seconds that carry it. I only know that if I ever do, it will probably change my world all over again. Indebted, indeed, and I’d have it no other way.