Sometimes I’ve written an answer I’m really proud of. I’ve poured my life into it. I really do that. I’m not trying to be dramatic.
But it’s funny, I keep hoping for confirmation of what I feel about the story or comment or whatever. I want lots of people to read it. I want to know it has touched them or helped them in some way or another. I think it’s an important part of what I have to say.
But do I feel better when I’ve written that? I don’t really think so. Not like in a sense of relief. Not like I’ve gotten something off my shoulders.
There are times when I write to find out what I think. When I work my way through something and I think I’ve come out somewhere good, I feel good about it. But I’m always hoping people will respond to it in some way—either with a response in the comments or with lurve.
And yet, I rarely go back to what I’ve written to see if it has any lurve. I’m usually just on to the next question. I guess the satisfaction is more in writing to see what I think than anything else. It’s kind of weird to think that you don’t know what you think. I guess it’s not quite like that. It’s more that you’ve never thought it through before, so here’s your chance.
I like that. Is that feeling better? I suppose. But it’s not enough to stop me from leaping onto the next question that interests me.