My heart is so overwhelmed at times, that the outpouring of my life needs to be directed into a well that I can reach into and pull out of when I need a reminder of all that is happening in me and to me. I need a well where I can keep a reminder of the lessons I learn through the hard times in life. Writing is my well.  Writing is the place in which I can pour out my very being. I can turn back to pieces of writing that I have written months or years before and remember what circumstances led me to that piece. There is so much hope to be found in the past. I never want to forget why am I am who I am, and what the things that made me who I am are. This is why I write. Writing is a memorial to what has made me who I am. Writing is also healing. There have been many times where writing has been the outlet to really hard circumstances. There is something so beautiful about writing. Earnest Hemingway says, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” There is something so precious about being able to bleed in your writing, and often that bleeding needs to happen before healing.