Just write it.
It's 11:00 PM here as I write this. I'm sniffling as I enter the frigid wasteland of another sickness. And I'm conflicted.
There's certainly no point in stressing out over a story, am I right? But somehow, I can't get that through my head. There's no writer out there who would take his or her writing too lightly as they prepare to send it out to the world's bleak eyes. And in many cases, this seriousness - the devotion to the story - is good. When it goes too far though, it will degenerate the writer down with it. It comes in many ruses, but it comes much of the time because of stress.
I procrastinate when I get doubts and when I'm afraid. Yes, I'm afraid. Fearing that this is all for nothing. And I can't imagine that it isn't a natural feeling. But right now, why can't I write this? It's a minute and a half of dialogue. A few lines, a few words. Why can't I finish it? I need it done by tonight. It shouldn't be that big of a deal!
But I also procrastinate when I'm conflicted. And I'm conflicted. And maybe afraid too? Afraid I could mess this up so much I'll never be able to amend it later. And once this is done, I won't be able to amend it. A last minute change to a project before it goes live means there's no more time for continued editing.
Just a few more lines and that's it. But they're loaded lines. Meaningful words. And, as Mr. Schwbauer says, meaning is something (even something very simple) that points to something greater. These scraps of lines are so significant to the story because they're at the very end. And they mean something. They're the end of character arc, they point to something far greater, and simultaneously they expose light to another, more hidden topic the story has hidden before.
And these lines specifically need to explain why. Why. And the Whying of any story can kill a writer. It's telling the audience why this, or why that. But Whying can be aggravating - because it's telling, not showing. And that's bad, because the Whying should be the showing, and yet most of the time it's switched with the telling!
Are you confused too?
Yet I'm resolved to write this tonight. I'm kind of obsessed with it.
Clocking in at 12:10. I had a long distraction in writing this. Ah, the distraction of a distraction from trying to write . . .
See you in the morning.