You might know the feeling: you’re up past your bedtime, aching for something just out of reach. You’re in your bag, you’re down bad…you’re yearning. Maybe you’re pretending you’re an 18th-century poet draped over a fainting couch in a candlelit room, pining for your lover who has shipped off to war. 

Yearning is a particular kind of lovesickness without a cure, favored by certain romantic depressives and 3 a.m. scrollers. It might not even be directed at someone in particular, just a general wash of malaise, but it’s an undeniable mix of longing and nostalgia. Maybe you’re looking at  photos from a bygone era, sifting through old texts, or listening to music that hits where it hurts. But you know that sometimes the only way out is through, and leaning into the pain is just what the doctor ordered. So draw yourself a bath, put on your favorite Lana Del Rey album, and yearn your heart out.