In the spirit of

This Christmas I will be thinking of rediscovery, renewal, and reaffirmation -- of struggling morals that strike me as wild grey eyes do; dark with desire, light with relish. I will turn, desperately, the pages of an unfinished book; bound in the leather of quiet beliefs and naïve convictions, joyfully earmarked, clumsily written. I will not feel the bow on a violin made of heartstrings, but I will hear its harsh melody. And when the church bells toll on Christmas morning, I will think of ersatz magic and erstwhile faith, beautiful friendships, and the road less travelled.

I will think of you, I will miss you fiercely.

Joyeux Noël.