Today I scanned and added a several-month-old pencil drawing to my gallery. I've titled it 'Unfinished but...' as it is the most appropriate title for the piece. It's still in my sketch book, waiting to be finished. However, every time I try to work on it, I seem to make it worse than what it is. Years ago, I could have finished the pencil drawing and had it outlined in the same night, colored the next day and ready to wow my cousin.

That was then and this is now, of course. It was also years ago that I had met a certain someone I had thought would be special and so pursued a relationship. It instead turned into the slow but unnoticeable near death of my drawing. What I once spent hours doing fell to the wayside and became overtaken by the mostly selfish needs of my 'special' someone. I blame my blindness and the naivety. I should have realized something within was dying, slowly being killed with every mocking laugh of derision when I would purchase the manga and anime that I collect, at what books I read or movies I watched.

I managed to get out of my relationship, albeit seven years later when I started feeling the slow death of myself, my ideals, and my convictions. Within me, however, I feel that perhaps the bit that was my love of drawing, my muse so to speak, lies still near death. Not totally, for I don't think I could manage to draw what I have were it, but maybe beyond my reach to bring back to life.

How does one bring back something such as this? Or is it something I must let go?