quit trying so hard, he said. i just sat frozen, not understanding.
you always ficitionalize everything, he continued.
well, that's the point matt - it's called FICTION. fic-tion, not fact. i was only slightly aware i was starting to raise my voice. i wasnt used to him challenging me. i wasnt used to him putting me on the defensive.
why did i feel so suddenly pushed up against a wall? ...
just write what you know. your own stories are a million times more exciting than any work of fiction you could produce, he said as he tapped on the freshly typed sheet that laid on the table between us.
why do you hide behind the words, he asked.
its too scary not to, i told him.
EXACTLY! he yelled. the scary part is some much more readable!
oh ida, that was what i needed - a real kick in the ass. i admire that boy down to the very marrow of my bones. if i didnt say it to him yesterday than i'll say it tomorrow and everyday after that.
he, like you, is an endless sense of strength and inspiration. i owe you each the world for that.