would it make you happy to know that you are the only thing I can still write about with little effort? at the thought of you when i'm staring at a blank page it's like all of the how are you's and conversations we haven't had in the passed year can just come out. i actively no longer write because it upsets me knowing you are one of the only things I can write about with ease. that's slightly ridiculous and i know it. how do i get back to myself? ps thank u for my favourite poetry book, i still love it and its still one of my favourite christmas gifts. (but also not thank you for making it so hard for me to write without feeling like I'm being torn back to the past.)