Over the past year or so, I've often wondered what happened to my mind. Why did the words stop flowing? Why don't the ideas come to me any more? Has the poet within me died?

Here I sit, 3:57 in the damn morning, unable to sleep. I used to write at times like these, I used to create. What happened to me? Why can't I think anymore? Why did it stop? I was just starting to get good...

Not sure why I'm complaining, I got my wish. The woman I've dreamed of for so many years, my one true love, the inspiration for every word I've ever put down in my sketch book. She is the embodiment of my writing, though I wrote for other people it was always about her.

I knew the moment our lips touched for the first time that I found my love, fairy tale, the missing piece of my soul. The moment I first laid eyes on her my heart started to flutter, my stomach flipped, I was in awe of her existance. Our meeting fit the mood of "Lover Unknown" perfectly...almost exactly the way I wrote it.

She didn't say much that night...so shy and adorable. When she ordered a side of tartar sauce with her chicken nuggets I asked her to marry me. It just slipped out. Much to my horror and confusion...I actually meant it. I played it off as a joke in an attempt to save face.

When we realized we'd forgotten napkins, I offered to get some. She said no because that would mean we would be apart. I saw it in her eyes then, just like I do now. Love.

When I finally worked up the courage to kiss her, she left me breathless. She was too shy to kiss back but I felt her, I knew what she was feeling, I knew she was trying to comprehend how a kiss could be so intense. I could feel her trembling as I caressed her cheek with my shaking hand.

I knew it was love.

Why then, can't I write for her? I worked so hard to be the best poet I could be for her. I wanted to write my love for her, leave her speechless, give her something no one else could.

Has the poet within me died? Did he use his last breaths to write about our meeting? Did he serve his purpose, or is the medication clouding my mind?

I've tried to force it, but it isn't the same. Something in my brain must have died, the creativity is completely gone.

Will I ever truly write again?