I learnt this year that twelve months is not a long time.
And suddenly I was up staring at the dates burning past; I was still sunken in the last wintersleep when spring danced its dance and left me watching from the dark corner of the bar that my life had become: the dim lights, and broken hearts, and the drunken thought of you rushing in and waltzing out.
I learnt that you are only as tired as your last mistake.
And that people only remembered what they wanted to forget.
I began to measure time in the ways your laughter changed from a river-burst resonance of joy, to a difficult trickle of a mighty stream drying up.
2014 has been a year of learning for me. But the most important thing I learnt this year about myself was that it was not enough to "feel" beautiful as it was also about "looking" it.
We will become silhouettes of our glory days.
I am grateful for the people I met here. Wonderful, real people with hearts so full of love.
And so I haven't made any promises for the next year. Because when they break, they just make too much noise.