Creativity, My Editor

Creativity doesn't flow. Not at the moment. So I force it by speaking ill of it. He is arising like a groundhog on Groundhog Day. He knows I am seeking him but is careful to not get caught.  He pops his head up and chuckles as I grab him from behind. He is alarmed and squirms to get out of my grip. But I hold him tight and force, then beg, then ask politely for him to stay and fascinate all that are watching. He agrees, takes a seat and sips coffee with me. We chat about what is on my mind and how to put it on paper. I begin with, "it hurts to know that I hurt over something that shouldn't hurt," he tells me to extend that thought. And I tell him my story. I am alone now; I have pushed everyone I love away. They are gone. Never to be seen again. They say when one door closes another opens. Or sometimes you lose people only to meet other people. And even, life goes on. I do not care for these sayings for which just like one person may be immune to bullshit, another is not. I do not feel the same as others. Therefore those sayings do nothing for me. I have pushed myself to the limit and I have become a walking emotional wreck with no feelings at all. How? Easy. I've hardened my shell so much that I limit what comes in but not what goes out. That has only led to me weakening others that are not as strong as I. Those who are weak minded that have not been able to get the names out of their head I have just hurt by filling their head to capacity with more. I understand what I am doing and have done. But I can't stop because the shell is so strong that I only consider my feelings. Mr. Creativity sips his tea and stops me here. “So you've made yourself so strong that in the process of not getting hurt you hurt others.” The way he said this was more of a statement than a question. In my sudden realization, I'm left mouth open stuttering for what to say. I can't find anything. I begin to cry. And he stops me with an abrupt, "Don't you dare; you are not allowed to cry. You have only done this to yourself and now you are forcing it upon others. No doubt they will silently thank you but you are not winning or gaining. You are losing.” He ends with that and tells me he must go. But he adds on one last thing before hopping away. He proceeds: "You have written me an important character. I am one you confess to, but what am I? Am I Mr. Creativity? Am I the groundhog on Groundhog Day? Am I your conscience? What am I doing? Am I sipping coffee? Or am I drinking tea? Or am I expressing your emotions through words? You have been so inconsistent with your creativity, but you are consistent when it comes to pain. Ask yourself why that is and when you come upon an answer, Creativity will flow"