Dear Proser’s, (An Admission)

First, I want you to know that I love you. I always have, even though I have been unfaithful. Yes, I have cheated on you. I am not proud of it, but I have dabbled with another writing site.

At first it was only a lark, silly flirtations, but I must admit that those flirtations felt good. It made ME feel good, like a beginning writer with a gift. I found complete strangers who were interested in what I had to say. They offered interesting suggestions, and gave interesting analysis. Admittedly, there was the usual fluff, but there was also some sound, helpful advice. I became enamored, and found myself giving them the one thing that I should have reserved for you alone... my heartfelt words.

But then, this relationship is not all about me, is it? We are in this writing thing together. When stripped down to it’s nakedness, I began to see my affair for what it really was; a need to venture away. I needed validation that I am an average, if avid, writer who has no business feeling under-appreciated, and who should want no more from a site than seven likes and a repost. But my affair also made me realize what drew me to you in the first place. That “other site” was difficult to navigate, had uninspiring challenges, and was littered with writing of the poorest sort which I was forced to read and comment on in order to share my voice. Sure, the reactions to my stories fed my vanities, but the site offered little fuel to fire my passions. With all of this, the things that made it seem to be my ideal quickly faded.

Oddly, the thing I missed the most about you during my dalliance turned out to be the very thing that pushed me away from you, Proser. I missed your maddening youthfulness; I missed the anxieties, the rebelliousness, and the ignorance in you that drives me insane when you will not listen to one who has experienced and survived similarly unfledged struggles, and was born through them a different, hopefully wiser person... but who is to say who is right, and who wrong? I know we drive each other crazy, but that is because we need each other to be stronger. You are my yin.

I have learned a lesson. I understand now that my scribblings are nothing without you.

In the immortal words of Forrest Gump, “stupid is as stupid does,” which is why I have written this stupid letter. I have followed your rules, and have paid my dues, so you have no choice but to take me back, or at least to scroll right past my drivel (as the smart ones do), but still I felt the need to explain, to come clean, to wash away the dirt, and to share my guilty feelings.

Admittedly, I have not been the best Proser. I cannot find it in me to hit “like” if I don’t like. I also sometimes disagree when silence would be golden. Even though I might not befriend you for “likes,” know that when you do write something special Old Huck will be there with an encouraging comment. Several thoughtful, well written posts might even win you a follower. And know that in the future, for good or bad, I will step up to your challenges while saving my first and best words for you, and only you.

A Letter From A Loving (if unfaithful) Proser,

Huckleberry_Hoo