Let’s just say I feel more broken than I did last year, but in a much different way, a way I didn’t know was possible. I’ve continued life with the philosophy that I can’t rule out possibilities for my life, for truth, that I haven’t tried personally. At some point I realized that all of my closest friends were moving on in their lives, be it to marriage, business, or excessive schoolwork, but as my reaching out seemed to wear itself thin, I found myself moving in that same direction. And I don’t mean progress as much as I mean alienation. I don’t know who would still be glad to see me, to no fault of their own.
Perhaps one of the reasons that even these old songs aren’t speaking to me is that I can hardly remember what that love that they always speak of feels like. They say that friends come and go in your life, but your family will always be there for you. I could say that I never took advantage of the large family of which I am a part my entire life, and now that I have family living out here, I have them. But I’m still not entirely sure what’s there. It’s territory that still feels alien to me.
I’m grateful not to have failed any classes, though when the difference is less than two percent, there is hardly a difference in my eyes. But one thing I know, I did not give up. Even though I had convinced myself that I had many, many times, I know that I didn’t. A student in my music history class had similar experiences to me, but when the difference was between passing and failing, s/he only saw her grade in the class and lost hope, giving up when the chance was its lowest at the final exam. For me in three of my classes, my grade shocked me as each day progressed in the semester. I have never failed a paper in my life, and seeing two classes below the 50 up until the end… at that point I accepted that failure was imminent, in not just one, but three major classes, but somehow I managed to get through.
I express that though such situations have made me rethink absolutely every aspect of my life to a pulp, I came to a conclusion that I had neither expected nor found appealing – that utter, miserable failure is a necessary part of my growth. I didn’t find it reasonable. I still don’t understand it. In fact looking at these words now, they look so blatantly simple and obvious my brain doesn’t admit they do it justice. But as the repercussions of my decisions continue to flurry into my face, I think I do accept that I contain at least a smidgen of tenacity. I’m not strong, and for the first New Year’s Eve that I’ve passed, I don’t feel a rush of renewed energy. But I have a prayer. I don’t even feel up to my big plans. But somewhere, something inside of my knows something – that happiness, love, future relationships are still possible. They still exist and can not only be real but also strong. And even though our brains trick us to no end, I know that in my past, times like this were always eventually followed by some amount of triumph. I am finding it hard to trust my own words, yet here they are, floating around looking for entrance into my heart.
I bid you a happy New Year, because we don’t just deserve it. It’s necessary encouragement, and by it are we made better. Life’s going to keep throwing snowballs that we are unprepared for. I think we are unfit to see our own progress or regression if it may be. I think life really is going to get better. And if you had to have as many glasses as I have had tonight, I’d say just go with it.