You sit down, ready to write and...nothing. Not a damn thing comes to mind. That's not true. Nothing you feel like sharing, out of fear or embarrassment or concern that you will say too much and someone will get hurt. Someone like you. So you push it down, ignore it, figure you will save it for another day. But it's there, lurking, waiting, keeping you up at night. You know what you feel, but you don't know how to say it in a way that anyone would understand. You don't even understand it, so how in the hell will anyone else get it.
You get up and go to the kitchen. You make tea. You go back to the computer and...you check facebook, blogs, email. You're stalling and you know it. Whatever it is, you can't or won't say it. Not tonight. You sit and you think about it some more. Really, if it's keeping you from writing (or thinking) about anything else, then why not say it?
And then it happens. What your best friend once called "the moment of breaking." The hurt, the frustration, the confusion, the trying to make sense of how you got to this place. It all spills out, faster than you can keep up with it. It still doesn't make sense, but it's out of your system. You feel lighter, unburdened, relieved and maybe, just maybe you'll be able to sleep.