I tried to write a song last night about my co-worker Chris going fishing. Gettin' up before first light, scramblin' an egg and washin' it down with Dr. Pepper, collectin' his gear and tossin' it in the back of his old Ford truck, etc etc etc.
But the song just wouldn't come.
I've had the notion -- but don't know how seriously I believe it -- that my unrequited love came upon my heart at the same time I got a guitar for the explicit purpose that I'd turn to my guitar as comfort, and it's there and then that my song-writing ability "flourished" (anyone who has heard me sing my songs would understand why I put "flourished" in quotes).
Now that I no longer need the comfort of song-writing, that ability seems to have left me. A fair trade-off I reckon.