And now, after many months of consideration, I've come to the conclusion that I don't write because I have a story to tell. I am not constantly inundated by plot ideas. Instead, it seems that I write in order to process what's going on inside of me. Or maybe less of the processing and more just recognizing what my subconscious thinks. There's not always a resolution. Heck, there's not even always a plot! And never mind the character development.
So in other words, I guess I just don't have it in me. Any talent that I thought I had for writing is probably just an offshoot of my capacity to memorize. I'm good with grammar and spelling, because that's something you can learn by heart. I've also memorized a few writing tools along the way, too, such as how to present POV. But as for the rest, it's just not there. I don't know how else to describe it, but I know there's something missing that I'll never have.
In the last months I've been both sad and mad; sad that I'll never see success in this venture, and mad at myself for being the way I am. I guess it was a kind of grieving after all my many daydreams and hopes. Now I'm more resigned than anything else, and left wondering just what talents I do have and, assuming I ever find one, what I can do with it.