All of us look back to a certain time in our lives, seeking for the same turbulence of the New Year celebration and trying to relive the excitement we once had as a child, but finding instead that all of our attempts only lead us to a place where it is silent and calm.
Welcome to the world of adulthood.
Party poppers everywhere floating in the air like candy-colored snow flakes; the smell of cheap champagne slowly seeping into the perfect curve of crystal glasses; the loud, throbbing sound of the latest pop song cracking into everyone’s head like a powerful chemical compound; the roaring laughter from across the living room beating into your heart like a familiar melody.
You were once surrounded by everyone you love. You were young but you understood them all, as everyone huddled into a tight crowd and counted the seconds to a brand new year.
But none of them is here now. I slip beneath my blankets, cold and unfeeling, as the rebel songs of my youth blast into my ears like the violent voices of my demons. From my bedroom window, I can hear the entire world and its merrymaking: the crack of fireworks, the siren of police cars, and the laughter of all those faceless people. I am perfectly still and nothing can break me now. In front of me are the memories of childhood, flashing like headlights in the misty boulevard of this passive indifference. I count each of these memories and let everything come to pass.
2017 was my breathing space. It was a year of respite and recovery from the countless tremendous assault of the preceding year. But mostly, it was a year of rediscovering life and learning how to live again. For the first time in a very long time, I finally mustered the courage that is left of me and began reaching greater heights where I met new people and gained new experiences.
But I have to say, it wasn’t an easy year. January was a mad woman. February was a phantom pulling me to my grave. March was almost the end of me. In April, I thought I was going to die when I finally learned how to tie a hangman’s noose and hoist myself from my bedroom ceiling. But the rest of the months were kind and forgiving, and here I am still,
I used to be so sad, so broken, because I thought it was easier to be that way than to face my demons and fight. But it takes a certain kind of courage to finally acknowledge your condition and to own up to your being human. I had to throw myself out there and let myself suffer if only for me to realize that there is no other cure for pain than pain itself.
I no longer wait for a time when these wounds shall heal, or dream of a paradise where I am free from all of this earthly sadness. I am a human and that is all I am ever gonna be. I no longer mourn my tragedies for I have learned how to live with them now, the way I have learned how to live with the ghosts of the people in my former life.
I shall leave it to Time to erase the memories of all the people I have loved in life, and to be left with nothing except for the brief, beautiful memory that I was once young, happy, and free.
In about an hour, 2017 shall dissolve into the horizon to pave the way for the coming of a brand new year. But a brand new year is only new for a day. After that, the glory of the new year is swept away, with all the force of a raging river, into the lonely pool of the ordinary.
So I tell myself, be strong and brace yourself for the coming wave.