I'm being nice to myself.

I have a coupon for an hour-long massage, so I scheduled an appointment for Sunday.  I've never had a professional massage before.

The sun was out today and the weather was (almost) warm and the cherry trees were in blossom.  I went to the bookstore and got a new notebook for the next quarter and some pretty pens for my sketchpad, plus a write-in-the-rain book for field season.  Then I went and lay on the grass and read Huxley's Brave New World, which is one of those books that I'd always meant to read but somehow never got around to actually reading.

I felt solitary.  Still.  Peaceful.  It was lovely.

If D had been there that would have been lovely as well, but in a different way.  I imagined it--sprawled on the grass with him, reading or napping, just being together.  As we used to do back before I moved away.  I miss those days.  I watched couples walk under the cherry boughs today and wished for everything and nothing all at once.

Springtime is the most romantic season.