| General Fiction posted April 12, 2025 | Chapters: |
...4 5 -6- 7... 
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Dealing with Emotions
A chapter in the book Emotional Guest List
Hope, Courage and Possibilities
by Begin Again
"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt
Hope knocked first. Courage opened the door. Possibility held out her hand. She ignored all of them.
The flyer had been sitting on her table for three weeks, tucked beneath a chipped coffee mug and a stack of unopened mail. A local writing workshop— five weeks, no pressure, no experience necessary. Just bring a pen, paper, and your imagination. She'd seen it. Read it and ignored it.
She wasn't that person anymore. Or so she told herself.
She picked it up again and read the words slowly, tracing the corner with her thumb. Then she set it down.
She was sure she couldn't do it, so why try? She remembered all the hours she had spent searching her brain for the right words, and nothing had come. It was a silly dream — wanting to be a writer. Hadn't her parents always told her that, telling her to live in the real life?
*****
Yet, later that night, she opened her notebook and stared at the first blank page
.
Hope whispered, "Just start."
Hope whispered, "Just start."
She wrote a line, then two lines, then three. Something fragile. Something that touched her heart.
She read it back and immediately scratched it out. She tore it out, crumpled it, and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall and rolled beneath the radiator.
She threw the flyer after it. "I can't do this," she said aloud to no one.
Possibility sighed but didn't leave. Courage crossed her arms and sat down across from her, waiting. Hope sighed and whispered, "We'll try again."
*****
The following morning, she stepped on the flyer — literally. She bent down to pick it up. The corner of the flyer was bent, but the words remained legible. Only you can follow your dream. Pick up that pen and write. You are in charge of your story.
She stared at it for a long time, then laid it on the table while she prepared her coffee.
Hope leaned in from the doorway, whispering, reminding her of her dreams. "You're allowed to try again."
This time, she didn't argue. While sipping her coffee, she thought about it.
*****
When she walked in, the class was quiet. There were no introductions, just notebooks and pens and the faint crackle of tension that lives in rooms full of strangers.
The instructor turned from the whiteboard. "You've got ten minutes," she said gently. "Write something you've never said out loud before. You don't have to share it. Just be honest."
Her hands trembled as she opened the fresh notebook. Everyone else was already writing. She hesitated.
And then, she wrote — "I've spent so many years pretending I didn't miss the girl I used to be. But I do. I miss her every single day."
She stopped. Read it again. And this time — she didn't cross it out.
Hope exhaled.
Courage smiled softly.
Possibility leaned closer, whispering, "She didn't need to know the ending. All the possibilities were there. She just needed the courage to believe in herself and begin."
The young woman stared at what she'd written and smiled.
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