Today I feel very in love. Very in love with myself. The way I paint my nails every two days at most. The way I adorn my body. The way my purse is always organized. The way I infuse meaning and magic into everything I do. The hours I spend watching my birds and bees. The overwhelming love I have for animals, my own in particular. The depth to which I consider every possible thing. The way I cut my fruit and prepare my tea. My forgetfulness and my forgiveness. How I am kind and loving towards most everyone I encounter. The times I am stern because I respect myself. The length of my hair and the blonde patches at my temples. How my belly is hairy and how much I don’t mind. The way I read my books and mark all of the pages. The hours I spend writing to myself. My deep connection to my family and how I know I’ll pass it on to you. My sentimental nature and my creative fire. The way I never comb my hair. The look on my face when I’m lost in thought or feeling. My knowledge and room for more. The insatiable drive I feel coursing through my body. My romance and my practicality. My eagerness to laugh and my stubbornness when I cry. I am feeling very in love. I am in love. I am love. My god, days like this, I swear I could fall into myself again and again and never grow tired of it. There is no one else I’d rather be.