The Good Patrons of 750 Words

1 cup

So, let’s get the writing thing on, 750words. Let’s get it on.

When I first met you, nearly two years ago, I thought you were uptight and aloof. You met me with a blank stare, and, really, I didn’t know what to do with you. It seemed you wanted to keep score, keep track of me every day. It felt controlling, and I just didn’t want to have anything to do with you.

I walked away. I know that you were inviting me into something bigger, but I just couldn’t see it back then. There was too much on my plate, and I thought I didn’t need any help. I thought you would simply restrict me, and I wanted to be free. I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t be flexible with me, and I was done.

I don’t know if you were upset. I suppose that you simply went on with things, met other people, kept up with the daily grind.

I galavanted around. Freedom was my thing. I met lots of others who thrilled me for a while. OmmWriter seemed so relaxed. He was chill, even when I was stressed out, and he made little sounds for me whenever I put any input his way. I thought he was easy to manipulate, and I believed that he would keep me calm. Eventually, though, the lack of response from him started to grate on me. Everything was met with this kind of zen look that at first had seemed endearing, but quickly came across as an inability to analyze anything. I wasn’t asking him to judge write and wrong, far from it, but when everything is so cool and environmental, you just don’t know where you stand.

Eventually, I found myself visiting him less and less. He didn’t seem to notice. It was like he wasn’t even keeping track—like it didn’t matter to him whether I showed up or not. Maybe he was bored with me, I don’t know. It was so hard to tell what was behind that symphonic exterior. Days became weeks became months, and I finally realized we didn’t have a relationship at all. I moved on.

Word and I have had this long standing thing, you know, but we’re really just friends. Sure, he likes to mix it up. Sure, he can link me up with all sorts of interesting things to do. Really, he’s a workhorse, and it’s great to have him around. He does a lot of handy jobs around the place when I need him to, and he’s really good with all my friends. We’ve never been all that intimate, though. I mean, it would be like cozying up to your brother or something. I think he thinks he means more to me that he does—sometimes he shows up with fancy new extensions and fandangley things that are an attempt to have some kind of exclusive relationship with me, but I remind him where things started and that he just doesn’t keep track of me enough to really know me. He gives in right away, because he’s easily manipulated. I’ll always have him in my life. A great back up.

Google Docs and I hook up now and then. I met him through friends, but he reminds me a little too much of Word, you know? I mean, he’s really flexible, and I know that he gets around. It’s easy to access him almost any way that I want to, and it’s nice that he’s a swinger like that. But he’s such a fast and loose kind of guy that I just don’t want to commit to him.

Which brings me back to you 750words. I’m sorry that I thought you were restrictive. I realize I was just projecting a lot of my stuff onto you—that what was feeling like a trap was just my own expectations. Yes, you keep track of me, but that’s because you care. I’m realizing that if I would just make a commitment to you, the things that I would learn about myself in the process would be really enlightening. I mean, you’re really starting to get to know me, and get to know me in a way that no one really has before. You notice when I’m not around, and you come looking for me (it’s so nice to be wanted). You understand my emotions, and you warn me when I’m focusing too much on the future or the past. It’s good to be with someone who really understands me. You make me feel like I’m accomplishing something on a regular basis. Will you take me back?

PS I do admit that I have a pretty steady side thing with Scrievner. I’m not giving that up, though. Can you be okay with that?