you write from soft-hearted melancholy and determined gentleness. your world is built from slow mornings, the warmth of a coffee mug held in two hands, the pages of a well-loved journal, and light filtering through a window onto a vase of flowers. you find poetry in everything, believing that even pain can be articulated with beauty. you lean on the words of poets like mary oliver and anaïs nin to make sense of your own heavy humanness. your philosophy is radical self-kindness; you are learning, little by little, to love your life and forgive yourself. you are made up of everything you love. write from this quiet, tender romanticism.