This is Who I Am

Now that I've come to embrace my identity as a writer fully, all the little things are starting to make sense.

My horrible sleep patterns, my habit of waking up at insanely early hours and not being able to go back to sleep? It's because I'm supposed to be up writing. 

My wandering attention span, my inability to focus on any conversation for longer than a few seconds before disappearing into my own head and thoughts? It's because my brain is made for composing stories. 

My dissatisfaction at everything? The feeling that something is always missing? It's because I was running from what I knew all along. I'm supposed to write. 

I'm supposed to write. It's what I was made for. I'm more certain of this than anything else, almost.