I fully planned on 31 days of writing in March.

I did.

I had dates and blog ideas ready.

I had a list of people whom I wanted to reconnect with.

This year, I was going to make it.

This year, I was going to be “that guy” who was an annoying pain in the butt with everyone.

But I did a bang-up job of getting only a handful of writing pieces posted.

And I did an even worse job of connecting with ANYONE.

I don’t know.

Maybe I’m not a writer.

I thought I was digging myself out of that darker place I’d fallen into a while back.

Maybe it was all just a ruse.

Maybe I’m not meant for this kind of stuff.

I don’t know anymore.

I just don’t know.