New Year

New Year's messages are always trite and overwrought.  There is nothing special about this one specific day in this one specific calendar.  I understand the human need to both mark the passage of time and to create at least the illusion of a the chance to start over, have the slate wiped clean, and begin again.

Maybe it's not an illusion.  Maybe some people manage it, at least in some ways.  I never have.

Lately, I have been having fantasies about a savior.  About someone swooping in and saving me, like a superhero, although not a superhero; but movie-like, a someone who would come charging into my life and fix everything, save me from myself, make it all right, and give me a happy ending, at least until the credits rolled, just so the final scene would make your heart yearn desperately.  The someone would love me unconditionally, so hard it could make you cry, and they would hold me up when I felt I couldn't stand AND remember to pay all my bills on time so I wouldn't have to juggle the dates in my head, and probably clean the kitty litter, too.  These fantasies always tell me that I am exhuasted, or I have lost confidence in myself to tackle everything, or I am depressed.  Right now, it's probably the last the two. 

But I can say: I have every faith and hope in the new year.  I do.  It is child-like, maybe, but I don't care.  Tonight, I am going to pass the moment into the next year alone.  I am going to regather, call all of myself home.  I am going to begin to grow strong again.  And then I am going to walk into whatever is next, my own champion.  I will save myself.  You'll see.

It is going to be a beautiful year.

I will see you there.