hey

hi.

it's been a while. i'm negligent, but in my heart always promised i would come back. here i am.

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last year when i blogged regularly, i said i thought i could write 50 love letters. i toyed with the idea of writing them all and then posting them intermittently as filler posts when i had nothing interesting to say or time to spend making my thoughts decipherable. i finally started writing them over winter break but only managed to write two of them. they're really short.

singleness and marriage and dating and relationships have been stirring around in my head a lot lately, and i've finally reached a satisfactory view on them (for now), namely that the middle two aren't a given and shouldn't be treated as such, and that a person isn't deficient for not having experienced them or for not having them presently. i'm not in a place where i'm consoling myself or bitter towards men (men are great!), just finally able to dispel this weird value system i've had for so long where i placed so much weight on the relationship - that kind of relationship - i could have with another person (and all this never having had a significant other). it's strange, i feel kind of hollowed out or sedated, like someone dipped my neurons in glue or molasses. i swear, i used to get so worked up thinking about this. now when i think about being single, i feel a little lonely, but not because i actually believe i am alone. i am loved and appreciated and recognize this - and i love and appreciate so many people in my life. the speck of loneliness is a curiosity about the unknown and how my life would be changed if i was special to someone "in that way." it's a pang of discontent that i don't know yet how that could fit into my life if i had it, and it's me wondering what that different kind of happiness would be like. i mean, i was able to articulate long ago that your emotions should never hinge on one person, but i haven't completely ruled out the possibility of dating. sometimes i just wonder

so i'll be posting the letters by their numbers. i miss writing and being written to.
i feel like i'm sending messages in bottles or talking into an empty room - not expecting to be found or overheard, but completely open to possibility of being discovered.