I write to you from the East Coast, from the suburbs where people lean out of the cars to yell hi from down the street and are quick to ask for and offer favors. I once told someone I was seeing in a casual-but-romantic-but-weirdly-intense-way where I was from and he scoffed and said, "That makes sense." I do have a love for my town but it still stung.
I make lists every morning of what do to and how to be; I write down what I've done every night. Falling into a rut doesn't feel much like falling at all, because most of the time you're still technically doing the things you're supposed to.
One day, we'll cut through the distance and look at the sky even when it's uninspired and see that everyone can come together to find a new rhythm.
Until then, I think of you. I text you little faces and I watch as you swim about the swirling waters of internet. I hope that you find something sweet.
All my love xx