A New Kind of Year

Long before the New Year, she had resolved to love herself completely. She did not require the prompting of such a resolution to come with the passing of the calendar year, she could feel the necessary change building in her bones and her soul and decided to pursue it from that moment on. She could feel her muscles aching to be worked again, and her mind itching for some form of engaging entertainment. She had been in a complacent state of boredom for the past few years, and had been doing all she could to make herself alright with the current state of her affairs. She smoked an excessive amount of weed to become alright with sitting at home bored, watching TV for yet another night in a row. She drank to the point of memory loss, to forget who she chose to hang out with and how uninspiring she truly found them. She went on walks for hours at a time, to avoid being in the home she had chosen to create due to what made sense on paper. She listened to all of the instructions provided by other influences in her life and followed them to the T, in hopes that the end result would make her happy. She saw life as a series of trails that others had already cut the paths for, from which she just needed to choose. The thought had never occurred to her that she could make her own path as well.

She chose to make this New Year different long before it was even within sight. Last year she would have been popping Molly and rolling her ass off in that apartment, struggling to keep her cool. But instead, this year she chose to bring finger paints to the party and offer a form of interaction for both the sober and the rolling to enjoy. Last year she had been surrounded by people who she had not invited to hang out with her, in hopes that she would be happier when surrounded by a party. This year, she chose to hang out with a small group of good friends, and build a relationship with a new friend of her own. Last year she would have felt the need to be intoxicated on such a night of celebration, but this year she chose to remember her evening well spent. If you asked her to, she could not pinpoint the exact day that she chose to stop being her college self, but this year, she is completely aware that that choice was made. Any of her partners in crime in college would barely recognize her now, but then again, she barely recognized the person they had known her to be. She could not help but feel some remorse for losing the girl who had danced on tables, put down bottles of whiskey in one gulp, and landed any man she wanted from the bars. She remembered fondly all the times she had unconsciously broken away from her childhood tendencies of being painfully shy, and lived in the moment the way she had observed many people in the spotlight do. Yet, she recognized that it was time for her to learn how to do all of these things without the crutch of intoxication. If she truly wanted to enjoy living in the moment, she needed to remember doing it. She couldn’t have her friends reciting her actions back to her the morning after another epic party she couldn’t remember attending in the first place. She needed to choose to attend that parties physically and mentally.

This year, she did not envy the people surrounding her, struggling to function through the drugs they chose to ingest. She felt no stab of remorse or regret for not even having a single drink. She had been presented with the opportunity to bring in the new year with out of character actions and consumption, and she was pleased with her choice had been to finger paint instead. She continued to not regret this decision when seeing her friends struggle through their hangovers the next day. She had been constantly hung over for years now, and enjoyed not beginning the new year with that familiar sensation. This year, she had chosen love for herself over an out of control lust for life and knew that this was the right decision for her, no matter what others said.


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