Stop calling it potential; it is simply work you have been avoiding for so long that it has begun to look like a personality.

The line is for the person whose finest work is a rumour. You speak of your potential the way other people speak of a finished achievement, with the same solemn pride and the same expectation of applause, and you have been doing it for so long that nobody can remember what it was ever supposed to become. An unused talent is not a talent; it is a hobby with better marketing. The sting sits in the word avoiding, because it strips away the flattering explanations, the timing being off, the circumstances being unsuitable, the break you were so obviously owed. You were not waiting. You were declining, quietly and repeatedly, and dressing the refusal up as patience. Potential has an expiry date, and yours is being passed around the room while everyone politely pretends not to read it. It lands best when you mention the book you are going to write, the business you are going to start, the version of yourself that will emerge once things settle down, and nobody asks the obvious question about the years already spent. They do not need to. The personality is doing the work of an excuse, and it is the only thing you have ever finished.