Before the first word

there is a silence that looks like fear

but is really just the room holding its breath.

You have been here before.

You will be here again.

Not for failure,

but a pause before diving in,

the moment the swimmer still has a choice.

Write anyway.

Write badly.

Write the thing you didn't know you meant until it appeared on the screen blinking at you like a question you forgot you'd asked.

The page was never empty.

It was waiting.