I miss writing letters

So I wrote one again

Dearest friend,

I miss writing letters. When I was in love they were my favorite pleasures. But in the absence of love, so too, my letters have gone.

I suppose I miss being in love.

I miss sharing the parts of my day that no one use could possibly care about. Like how my left eye has been strangely sore all day and how I walked a mile home from the grocery store with ripped bags, clutching at the produce. I could have used an extra hand carrying them.

I'm a little lonely in my imaginary city. It's had a population of 'one' for some time now. The hardest part of life is being open to love, yet not knowing where to find it. Maybe love is not something to be "found" at all. Maybe I need to spend less time searching for it in the eyes of everyone I pass on my walks and more time giving it to others.

I don't know…

Life is good, otherwise. Some days are better than others. Yesterday I spent the entire day in bed. The most productive thing I did was read a little and spend 15 minutes sitting in a sauna. I'm trying to give myself grace for a wasted day. I don't know. Sometimes I just wish I knew what to do. Anyways, thanks for listening.

Your friend,

R2S