This is not my call. I'm not ready.
He sat down heavily, letting his tall frame land on the chair in front of his computer in a controlled crash. His tired eyes scanned the blank white expanse of canvas just waiting for him to peck out his legacy on. The words wanted to come, but an invisible barrier of sorrow and confusion held them back. He wanted, more than anything, to express to someone just exactly how he felt and just how much of his life had been torn from him, taken away from him and held from him in the most unjust and cruel way.