Never ending story

I've always loved books. Always.

But for a while now, I was convinced that I would never find the perfect book. There were days I  thought it didn't even exist. And some other days, I sat at my desk and began to write.

Those days were full of hopes, but also questions. I was short talent and patience to write a book, not to mention "the" perfect book. And I didn't know why I cared so much because stories were everywhere, I was surrounded by them... And I could always find comfort in my dreams. So I began to think that the only frontier between exceptional and perfection was control. Books could be pretty exceptional and beautifully written yes, but in my dreams, stories were always better because I had no control over them.

When you write, you have to control your story, because if you don't, nobody will understand, and your characters will be completely drown under your words. And you don't want that to happen, you want your story to be perfect...

But books... they stand between your life and your dreams, between reality and inconscience. You can never be aware of your perfection, unless you're writing while sleeping, but that's impossible. That itself is a never ending story.

The thing is : books are disapointing, more often than sometimes.

So yes, maybe books are not perfect, but words are. You can paint images with words, sometimes better than most artists can with a pen and ink. And even if you can't exactly describe feelings the way you experience them, you still can try.

From this moment, I asked myself one question : why do I write stories ? Why do I love writing ?

And I began to think that writing - telling stories - was not about perfection, that I had to let go of this idea that perfect was what it was all about. In reality, it was about connection. It was about relationships and, more often than sometimes, about love.

Writing was easy for me, well not easy but natural at least. Writing was nice, but what was not easy at all was to sit at my desk to write. Because writing was not about perfection and control anymore, it implied to let go ; and the biggest fear of my life was the idea that I would never be able to find love.

See, love was an ideal concept for me, something to achieve in order to be happy. Love, like stories, was everywhere in pictures, movies, books, other people's lives... but not in mine. So I tried to convince myself that love didn't exist, because love had to be perfect. At least true love.

But what I failed to notice at the time was that love was also about letting go...

And to this day, this is the never ending story number one in my life.