Left page of my journaling spread.
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Christmas is approaching, and with it comes the magic that I love so dearly. Twinkling lights glow softly in the evening darkness, transforming even the simplest streets into enchanting paths. The scent of pine, the warmth of a cozy blanket, the crackling of candles—all of it fills me with a quiet kind of joy. It’s the atmosphere that wraps around me like a comforting hug, reminding me of childhood wonder and the beauty of togetherness.

But as much as I adore this season, I can’t help but feel a tinge of dread creeping in. The big family dinners are looming. Too many voices talking over each other, too much food spread across the table, and too many people filling every corner. It’s overwhelming. I always feel the weight of it the day after—a social hangover that lingers, leaving me drained and wishing for solitude.