Why We Write

We write to give ourselves something prettier to look at than divorce papers.

We write because sometimes seeing certain words in a certain order can make sense of things like nothing else.

We write because at times it is the only constant in our lives, when there is no one to kiss goodnight, and when there’s no money for eggs and flour to rhythmically beat into bread.

We write to hear ourselves speak when our voices are lost.

We write to remember things we thought we’d forgotten.

We write to preserve moments such as glances shared with strangers that haunt us so, and the fact that our grandmother once owned a quilted silk robe and a purple beaded flapper cap.

We write because when we feel inspiration, it’s like we’re peeking over the fence and catching a glimpse of a secret garden.

We write because we need love.