Reflections On New Year’s Day
It’s almost tomorrow
Smashed wild berries decorate my driveway, ground into the pavement by sets of four tires. ’Tis the season to be jolly; ’tis the season to be sick. I appreciate my Kleenex box. Night has already begun to embrace the city and I am predictably inside the house. In adulthood, I have learned powerful lessons. As an adult, I am afraid of the dark.
My mind is everywhere and nowhere at the same time, moving so fast that it may as well be standing still. I haven’t written in months. I write grocery lists and other people’s breakup texts. Literature reviews and case notes and the kinds of emails that demand a tl;dr. I write all the time…yet I write nothing.
It is winter, and my body knows it. Even though frost rarely rests its lips on the green grass this far south. Even though neither Carolina has ever, ever known the cold. Surely, I am better off at lower latitudes where I can walk outside without the frigid air gnawing at my skin. Surely, I am better off without snow.
Surely.
I am, and yet the autumnal equinox drips with a prescient sadness, the knowledge that interpersonal coldness will soon percolate into every corner of my being. God helps those whose loneliness is only ever coupled with a burning desire to be alone. God help me.
