There seems to be a central theme in some of my writings lately. I keep referring back to that scene in “Sex and the City,” where Carrie is blathering to Aiden, when he tells her that you broke my heart. I think that was a very powerful scene. I’m not used to men on TV (or real life, for that matter), telling women that their hearts have been broken.
There’s a scene in the novella that I’ve been writing, I wrote it about three years ago, and he’s having one of those moments. He wants to tell his ex that he ruined her for a bit, but realizes that it’s pointless. She’s fickle, and possibly a drug addict, or maybe recovering addict, but still. She doesn’t quite get the depth of the damage she had done to his psyche, but he tries covering it up by his coolness and pretentiousness.
Good news! I should be done with this damned novella very soon. Maybe by next week. I feel so relieved, that it’s finally over. I feel like I’ve been giving birth to this damned thing for over three years, and I just want to get rid of it. Or maybe hold it in my arms and raise it. That was weird.