Sunday, December 13, 2015

letter to 2015.

Dear 2015,

I don't know what kind of letter this should be. A farewell note? A thank you? A "fuck you"? I'm leaning toward the last one a bit, to be honest, because despite all of the lovely things that did happen this year (a new job, fun travels, checking things off my bucket list), there was a lot of shit that I can't quite shake.

I entered the year recovering from a death, only to experience more of it sprinkled throughout the past 12 months, including additional moments where the reality of death comes closer than you'd like for it to come. In the process of all of the grief, I found myself pulling away from some people and heading toward others. In the heartache of it all, it was easier to drift from people who felt distant than to keep trying to connect because isn't it easier to be the one choosing to lose people than to watch them get taken away so unexpectedly?

No. Perhaps it's just as difficult.

If someone asked me if 2015 was a good year, I'd say it was all right. But ultimately, I'm no longer measuring volumes of my life from January 1st to December 31st, so I don't think I could tell you what 2015 was really like. It feels like a really big quilt that someone stopped working on, so there are patches and squares of fabric that sit in a pile, waiting for someone to start again and complete the blanket. But maybe it's time to start a new project entirely because you were never going to finish that first quilt anyways, right?

I think I thought this was going to be a different letter when I first started writing it. I think I wanted to be angrier, but I don't really know where to direct my anger to anymore. Life, lately, has just been about finding the small things to enjoy--a new song from an old favorite, a cute panda video, a cup of peppermint tea--and letting the big disappointments hover temporarily before being pushed away by a simple pleasure. Does that sound like a temporary bandage? Maybe. But I'll take it right now because the glass is much better half-full for a small part of the day than half-empty for the whole of it.


There's nothing really to resolve right now aside from some personal shadows. It's true that we're our own worst enemies, and I make no excuses for the generally shitty person I have probably been throughout the majority of this year. I'm grateful for the daily chats that have helped get me through most of this storm (you know who you all are), and I guess the best I can say is: I'm working on it.

OK, I'm done for now. More later.

TGL

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