To all of the stories/articles/poems I never finished,

I am so sorry.

There is no way in hell I can finish you. When I started writing you, I was feeling inspired. I thought my writer's block had finally ended. The creative juices were flowing...but they ran dry after around 20 minutes.

I keep on revisiting you in my Google Docs app, rereading what I wrote with a tinge of pride. That said tinge of pride is extinguished when I remember that I never finished you. You always end on a sentence that I never meant for you to end, since I thought you were the one (the one being the piece of work I would give an actual ending to). You sit in my Google Drive for months, even years, on end. You haunt me, ask for an ending, to be put out there, published, but my only response to you is an unfinished storyline.

It's not you. It's definitely me. Maybe I should think out things more. Think of a plot and characters before I write. You know that's not how I am, though. My writing style is all or nothing, and most of the time it starts at all and a few minutes later, it's nothing. My brain turns into radio silence. The rest of your last page remains blank, white space that'll probably never be filled but will still sit there because I'm too emotionally attached to you to let you go. I can't delete what I write unless it's more cringeworthy than normal. I'll never show you to anyone else. I guess you'll just have to stay there.

Maybe one day I’ll write a variation of you that’ll actually live to see an ending. The only pieces of writing that I finish are essays, but those don’t count, considering that they are graded and I kind of need to finish them or I’ll flunk out of school. I promise that I don’t favor essays over you, unfinished creative works, I just can’t think of an ending, so I just start a new document and do the same thing to another story. Rinse and repeat.

I honestly don’t know how to end this. My bad?

Sincerely,

Gabby