There's a tree in Irving Park with a string of white paper notes hanging in between two of its limbs that might catch your eye as you're walking by. When I spotted it the other day the first note I turned over read You Are Loved, which is incredibly trite, but exactly what I needed to believe this dark time of year when it takes me an hour to get out of bed and I seem to always have Weather.com open in one tab and Google Flights in another. I'm missing folks and sometimes it seems there's nothing to fill the missing places, but then there's love. And you are loved even if you're not seeing anyone and there's Valentine's shit in every store and the couple on the bench in the park is leaned in close together against the cold and you don't think you'll ever get there. Remember the people you love and who love you and remember to love them and love yourself and take good care of yourself, especially if no one else does, and take good care of each other, and be generous with your love, and when you get there I hope you remember to leave nice notes in the park for the rest of us.