The day started awkwardly, but has progressed... favorably. I told her many things I feel, she told me some in return, scattered with strong stances and understanding I don't believe she can truly have, but I love her for trying. Inspiration is internal, and refuses to be pulled screaming from the hell it hides in when it isn't here. It must be coaxed from the dark, then held in a relaxed hand, not siezed and strangled. Hard to relate that to her, but I did try. Failed, methinks, but tried.
I shall try to coax the inspiration. Once more, with feeling.
Twenty years is a long, slow time.
Wish me luck, those who read this.
Moonlight and blessings.