still

i truly do still love to write

i still love Jesus, just a little differently now

i still wear my glasses every single day

i still eat mac and cheese and wear that gray sweatshirt when i’m feeling off

i still love things that feel old and vintage and fragile and beautiful

i still wear those converse and orange is still my favorite flavor

i still love gentle, ballet piano music

i still love singing at the top of my lungs to taylor’s songs

i still really, really love love

it’s exciting to look back and see how far you’ve come and admire all the growth and progress and change, and that is definitely so important to do

but there’s something nice about seeing how much i’ve been through and finding comfort in the fact that i’m still the same me

that some sweet, small parts of me have still remained untouched

new journal

it feels so significant to start a new journal. knowing i’ve filled the pages of another book feels simultaneously satisfying and nostalgic. i remember writing to cope, to live, and starting to come back to that feels good. i’ve journaled almost daily now since march-ish, which is the longest i’ve journaled consecutively since... forever. maybe high school. i love journaling and writing to You and spewing words about my day, but i think i miss describing the intangible. i miss poetry. i used to always be in a poetic state of mind– i think i still have it. i used to love and consume writing and poetry like it was a part of me. i think a big change has been emotional maturity, but also my relationship with You. You’re my solace now, not the blank lined pages. You created me to love this, to process and document here, but it’s not my only safety anymore. You are.

so sure, i’ll keep writing and learning and loving and living in these pages, but it’s different now.

it’s warmer with You here.