Dear World,
I drop the dying year behind me like a shawl and let it fall. The fireworks fling themselves against the midnight sky like a beacon to the past- of the loves, the losses, the highs, the hardships, the grievances, and the celebrations. One by one, the souvenirs of another year fade into a black and white film strip, locked safe into my mind’s unforgotten shelf. Your breath coils around my neck, your lips stamping hope in its wake, as the new year bounds in, cloaked in champagne toasts and ball drops and hums of Auld Lang Syne. What crushed me into dust over the past 365 days leaves me feeling invigorated, inquisitive, and sanguine. While the year wanes into the rearview mirror, time falls and falls into an endless chasm beckoning me to write this next chapter on a blank leaf. And so, I awake, ready, for the shape of a new me to take hold.
Bottom line: Be at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and at the brink of the next great version of yourself. Make this year count.
Sincerely,
Britt
