Welcome, even though I never invited you. But you can’t stop time from flooding your existence, and you can’t stop a hurricane from continuing on its path of destruction. That’s what time is anyway, right?

I mean, I was supposed to do that human thing called celebrating, right? Of shouting “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” when the clock struck twelve. I was supposed to raise my glass and then hug every single individual in the room, wishing them a Happy New Year. Happy New Year. Happy Fucking New Year.

For me, this year was the year it all meant absolutely nothing to me. My mind was filled with negative thoughts instead of being absolved. Things like, say, time isn’t real. The calendar isn’t real. Age isn’t real. Just because the clock struck twelve doesn’t mean some God in heaven absolves you of your sins. You can’t use this as an excuse to make resolutions now. You should make resolutions all the fucking time if you want to be absolved. Not even absolved. REDEEMED.

And sometimes I wonder why am I so damn devoted to you, Mom? And I was a fool for wishing you didn’t leave me alone. I haven’t forgiven you because you haven’t forgiven him. Screw resolutions. I should make them whenever I want to. And I’ll start making them when you’ve thought about it enough to make yours. I think one for you, mother dearest, would be to fucking acknowledge people, to listen to them, and to stop having such low expectations of your daughter. That would be nice. That would make me have so much more confidence in myself, so much more faith in you, and so much more general contentment.

I have no more energy left. I used it all pretending that this new year would save me.