dear twenty eighteen,
I do not hate you. I think you sometimes hated me.
If I were to be naive, I could sum up your 365 days into one angry word; but that would not be fair. Truth be told, you taught me more than I have ever learned in all my life.
You taught me true friendship. You showed me a fire within my soul called “Passion,” and I have not been the same since. You made it clear that the world can be pretty evil, and that my voice is necessary. You confirmed my desire to travel, live, and experience. You challenged my intelligence and stole my sleep. You told me that I will not make sense to most people, but I should not worry about that. You opened my eyes to what I need, and what I do not.
You yelled at me, “LET YOURSELF BE IN LOVE EVEN IF IT WILL BREAK YOUR HEART,” and I did, and it did.
You sat with me while I cried over a lost connection and forced me to wipe my face, put my hair back, and carry on.
You made madness look pretty and convinced me that my life must be extraordinary.
You wiped my tears, pushed my hair behind my ears, and said to me, “You are not for everyone. You are far too much.”
2018: thank you. Thank you for bringing me into adulthood at last. Thank you for shaking the very earth beneath me and for loving me in the harshest form. Thank you for breaking me only to build my power within.