Dear Self Motivation,

I am writing this letter because I can't seem to find you. Are you in town? Are you drunk? When we all left Bundanon, did you stay there? Have you left me for someone else? Is it Zadie Smith? It's Zadie Smith isn't it. She gets all the self motivation. She gets up before she goes to bed. She writes book after book and wins prize after prize. I hope you realise she's just using you. I hope you realise you're the only thing I've got.

Look, I know you must be confused right now. I was all wrapped up in you for a whole month in Bundanon and I admit I've gone cold on you since then. I guess I took you for granted. I admit that.

Remember the good times? Remember the looks on the faces of the people in the Melbourne Uni Law School front office when we rode our bike into the actual office, panting and red in the face, and handed in our essay at one minute past five? Remember the time we rewrote an entire play because our hard drive died and we had to start again from scratch? Remember learning all those lines for Three Sisters that time? Remember how we used to go to gym?

So I know Zadie's probably great. I know she probably does what you ask, when you ask it, and the rest of her life isn't full of boring distractions like bills that need to be paid, washing that needs to be sorted, life that needs to be lived and so on, and I bet she hasn't got Foxtel, but listen, you mean a lot to me. I can't do it without you.

Please come back to me. I'll do whatever it takes. Zadie Smith gets up early. You want me to get back early? I can't do it without you. See how that works? We're a team. A real team.

I even cancelled a few social things. I know how you love that. Meet me tomorrow at the library. I'll be holding a red carnation.

Yours,

L