-1/5/22 The Greatest Love Story I Have Ever Written

I woke up at 2:30 in the morning and was able to hang onto this thought from within my dreams. I immediately got out of bed and went to work writing it down. I dedicate this blog to my wonderful wife, Patti. I love you, baby.

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There once was a young author who set out to write the best love story he ever could. He grabbed his pen, grabbed his paper, and sat down to create his masterpiece.

Once upon a time, he wrote.

He began to lay out the foundations for his love story. He would add the girl, the moments, the laughter, the promises, he would add it all. Everything he needed to write the greatest love story of all time.

When he first began, he was excited to be tackling this heartfelt task. This was going to be great. He was very optimistic that his story would be so easy to write.

I have all of the elements I need, he thought

The pen that he chose was so pretty. The contour of it was simply remarkable. It fit snug within his hand. Each finger was positioned just so which made it easy to hold without effort or strain. The ease of maneuverability across the paper was second to none. It moved as if on glass. The paper he chose was quality. It was the perfect size. The perfect color shade. It had perfect lines. Everything about it was sure to be a major factor in writing his story.

And he wrote. This and that. Him and her. Everything one needed for a great beginning was in there. But then something happened. He sat the pen down for a moment and got sidetracked. The pen sat there on the paper for the entirety of the rest of the day. When he remembered his story and came back the following day, the pen's ink had ran. It dripped all over the white paper and created one large blob of black.

This will never work, he thought. This can never be the greatest love story.

He opened his drawer and drug both the pen and paper into it with his forearm.

I will write a better one.

He chose another pen. He chose another sheet of paper and sat down to start over. Once again, he added a different girl, different moments, different laughter, different promises, he added it all. Everything he needed to write the greatest love story of all time was in there. This time it seemed to flow out of him with greater ease. He had already written this part once before so it was familiar to him. He wrote and he wrote until he got thirsty.

I'll just sit the pen down for a moment and grab a drink, he thought.

While he was quenching his thirst, he began to feel hungry. He looked around and found something to eat and started to shovel it into his mouth. A bite here and a drink there until eventually the entire plate and glass were both empty. Well, now he was tired so he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He didn't open them until the very next morning.

He eventually opened them, stretched real big, and looked down at his story. To his surprise, once again, the pen had run and created a giant blob of black on the paper.

This will never work, he thought. This can never be the greatest love story. I will have to start all over again.

He opened his drawer and drug both the pen and paper into it with his forearm and then pulled out new paper. He pulled out a new pen. Perhaps, if they were both different than the others he could write a better love story. This paper sported a different color shade. This pen wrote in a different color. Perhaps, now he could do it right. So he wrote and he wrote. The sun disappeared behind the curve of the earth and reappeared from behind its other side but he kept on writing. This was great. There were so many words materializing across the paper. This was truly starting to look like it was going to be the greatest love story he had ever written.

Suddenly, he heard a horn honk outside.

Who could that be? he thought. Perhaps I should go see.

While he was away, the pen began to run over the paper. Drip by drip the black began to pool up until it resembled the first two failed attempts. He was gone a long time. Whoever it was kept him occupied for an entire week. When he remembered his love story, he returned to his desk and was once again shocked by the large blob of ink that covered the paper.

Oh, my! This will never work, he thought. Once again, I have failed at writing the greatest love story. I will have to start fresh. Again.

He opened his drawer and drug both the pen and paper into it with his forearm. This time, he sat an opened spiral binder on top of his desk and accompanied the new pen with an upright holder, as to keep it from dripping on the paper again. This time he was prepared. He dove right in and began to write and write and write. He added a different girl and different situations and different everything. His story began to grow and grow, word by word. He kept writing until he had several finished pages behind him.

Oh my! he thought. There are so many pages to this love story. Everything is working out just fine. I have been writing now for months. I'm much farther along than I imagined I would be, so ... perhaps I could take a little break and watch some TV. But just for a little while and then I must get back to my love story.

He proudly saddled the pen in its upright holder and went about to entertain himself. One show ended and another began. He watched from beginning to end, first one and then the next and then the next and so on. He had sat through more shows than he could count by the time he remembered his love story.

When he returned to his desk, he was confident there would be no big blob of ink across his paper. And he was right. But to his surprise, when he looked down at the paper, he was horrified to see that all of the ink had faded. He had been gone for so long that the ink had all disappeared. Everything he had written had been lost. forever. This saddened him.

Throughout the years he continued his quest to write the greatest love story he could ever write. He would try this and that but something always got in the way of him finishing it.

One frustrating day, he sat down and looked at his desk and wondered.

Why can I not write a great love story? he thought. Though I try and I try ... I can never finish it. Why?

And then it struck him. A moment of honesty swept over him and forced him to take a long look at the way he wrote. It was not the fifth new table he sat at. It was not whatever pen he chose this go at it. The contour of it didn't matter. The color of ink didn't matter. The paper's size and shade didn't matter. It wasn't each new pen holder's fault or the different flowers in different vases he had put there to create a comforting atmosphere. He couldn't blame it on the fully stocked mini fridge, beside him, with a different flavor of cola every other week or the heaping pile of food delivery boxes with different names across them. There was only one constant throughout all of his attempts and he finally realized what it was. It was ... him. He was the only item that was still there from the start to now. He was the reason that every love story he had written, failed, one way or another. He was the one who always found a reason to stop.

And with a renewed heart he sat down to write the greatest love story of all time.

He chose a new girl and wrote, Once upon a time, and then never let go of his pen, ever again. The old author never stopped writing and, to this day, still writes on the greatest love story he has written.

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I hope you enjoyed my dream. I was happy that it came with me into consciousness and I was able to write it down before forgetting . Be kind to one another, people. I'll see you next week.

Until then, continue to feed your brain. You owe it to yourself.

Angelo

Check out my book, Caesar's Move at angelobain.com