Dear 2003,
Thank you for giving me, taking away from me, giving me, taking away from me, giving me, taking away from me a random mixture of the ugliest twenty pounds on Earth. There are leftovers... please feel free to help yourself.
Thank you for letting me leave the country twice, and letting me return twice. Thank you for three separate holidays away from the city. Thank you for letting me visit with three entirely separate groups of people who enjoy my company, and with whose company I enjoy. Thank you for letting me do it all in one piece, without incurring broken bones, gashed heads, disease, temporary poverty, or various other forms of relative tragedy.
Thank you for letting me get away with some very bad decisions, without having to suffer horrifying consequences.
Thank you for giving me new friends. Thank you for letting me gain closure on old ones.
Thank you for a good run of decent hair, in all of its flippy, alterna-cute incarnations.
Thank you for my 29th birthday.
Thank you for not taking anyone from me, for not swallowing them up in the mouth of time.
Thank you, 2003, for exactly what you are. For time. I desperately, desperately needed time to unlock a few more of my wisdom doors, to make a dent in the clutter of immaturity. Thank you, dear time, for letting me read a few more pages in the book of patience, to finally reach the chapter that deals with tolerance. Thank you for the time you've given me to solve the code behind understanding the people around me. I'm not there yet, but I'm making headway, I promise. I just need some more of you added onto me.
Thank you, 2003, for allowing me more time in front of the mirror - not to always judge, but sometimes just to nod approvingly. Thank you 2003, for alternately letting me ride the sharp edge of pain and the dull edge of shallow gloom.
Thank you, time, for letting me survive the rides.
Happy New Year, everyone.
Love,
Mare-Ingenii
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