Once upon a time there was a writer who had a tendency to get all twisted up. It seemed as if she was attracted to spiderwebs and could not resist getting herself. Rather than come upon one, admire the craft and beauty of it, then walk away, she compulsively inserted herself where she did not belong, and was not wanted.
Long story short, this girl had a platinum heart- precious and heavy and fragile. It was such a fabulous burden to tote around, she was nearly desperate to find someone to share with. But instead of doing as she was instructed and had pledged many moons ago- to find a suitable partner once she had established its true worth. The silly girl kept on going out there and wooing seeming suitors to her aid. As she herself had not determined the real value, she could not communicate it or convince others of it. Nobody really wanted it.
Finally, she grew weary chasing after another somebody who was not interested and had no safe place for her heart to rest. She took to back to the road, on her own, to get reacquainted with the space that her own long and lonely shadow cast on the path forward. The pain of occupying her own space after sharing with one who saw her heart as she hoped it would be seen, was exquisite. Time being the only antidote for such a wilted spirit, she set about filling up the vast expanses between minutes that would finally assemble to form a day. Here her faerie queen godmother came to her with the reminder of her pledge. That the heart would grow lighter and be suited to sharing once its value could be measured. This was the ray of light the girl needed, without delay she put her heart to the task at hand- writing from her heart in order to tell the tales and walk the miles...
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