The week's challenge was: "Surrender."
Give it up, Joe.
"You’ve already caught it, Joe. Give in."
"I can’t. I won’t."
"We’ll see." I’ve been trying to convince Joe now for days. Once you catch it, you don’t shake it. Just can’t be done. I told him what it was, but he’s still in denial. It’s a virus. An addiction. And it doesn’t go away.
"It’s too tough. I don’t have what it takes to do it. I shouldn't have ever said anything about it."
"It’s going to eat you alive no matter what you do. Might as well surrender to it."
"I can’t believe you’re saying this! You of all people know how difficult it is."
"Hey, fighting it’s the hard part, Joe. Giving into it’s for the best. Trust me. I’ve already been through it—every single stage. I know."
"Just because you came to terms with it doesn’t mean I will. I’m not you, okay? I’m too old anyway."
"You’re never too old, Joe." I can’t help but grin. I do, however, manage to contain my snicker. He’ll surrender. I’ll make sure of it.
"Listen, man, I am old. I don't want to squander what time I got left."
"And you think doing this is squandering your time? Hogwash. It’s growing inside you man. Right now. Right there in your gut! There’s nothing you can do about it. It’s always going to be there. You’ll be happier if you just accept it and deal with it."
"You know I can’t stand being cooped up at home day after day. I’ll go nuts!"
Now the snicker escapes. "You’re already nuts, Joe. I want you to prove it. Prove it to me. Prove it to the world. Stand for something. Anything! You’ve got it inside of you. It’s not going anywhere. I can promise you that."
"No, I'd love to, man. Really, I would. I just don't think I can do it."
"Look, Joe. Don’t your wife and kids deserve to hear what you have to say? Your grandchildren? Don’t you want to leave something behind for them? You've got it in you, I know you do."
"I don't know how to say what I want to say. I’m just not good with words."
"Listen, Joe. I’m here for you. I’ll help you any way I can. Just write the freaking book!"