If this were a love affair with a woman, my friends would be having an intervention.
Gathered in my living room, they'd say they cared about me, they'd ask me to listen.
My therapist friend would pat my hand and say that it was problematic that I obsessed over every word in the letters my lover sent me. That she didn't know what to say when I asked her what "the ending fell flat" meant.
A kayaking friend would cry and say she missed me.
My blunt friend would shout that one or two moments of acceptance did not make up for the hundreds of rejections, much less the long periods of silence.
My bookeeper friend would would want to know how much money I had been spending on making the relationship work. Frequent computer repairs, the new computer, printer ink, postage, conferences, books, more printer ink - this would all be mentioned with increasing despair.
It would be a long night.
My love affair with writing - group writing project
