"You have an incredible writing style," he says, as he hands back my paper. "You know, I often think that you just can't teach people everything there is to writing. Writing well; it's a hard thing to learn. But you have a natural ability. You write very well."
I smile to myself as I hunch over to keep the rain out of my eyes, avoiding the puddles that stand between me and the car. It's flattering, but also gratifying to receive a compliment like that from someone I respect. And it's comforting; to know that every time I have attempted to put feelings into words has built up to something. I may not be the best writer; but I do know that I am meant to write.
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