And so it is.
I try to sit here annually and recap the year that has just expired, what has passed away, and this year is no different. But jesus, what an eulogy this is.
2018 is gone, and good riddance.
Today I have seen many eulogies, and I have also seen a lot of self righteous prose from pedagogues who stand high and mightily on Twitter pedestals, preaching from the mount.
"Oh, it wasn't the year's fault, it was you."
B'y, we're not that stunned. It wasn't the universe.
Suck it, and suck it for everyone who has spent this year with pain. We know the universe and stars did not magically coordinate to turn our lives upside down, but we also know that we have hurt, things have been bad and by fuck, we will not be belittled in how poorly we have felt through this year.
B'ys, here it is, and buckle up because I am going in dry:
You do not get to tell someone who has hurt, or who has experienced loss, that their experiences are less or mean less. You do not get to rank or judge anyone's experience, loss, emotions or hurt and tell them how to process or be. You do not. You certainly do not get to break someone then determine how broken they are permitted to feel. Like that one? Therapists are great.
In the words of Brian Fallon, "Everybody's hurt and mine ain't the worst but it's mine and I'm feeling it now."
If it is your hurt, feel it.
If this year has been bad - hurt, yell, scream, say goodbye to it with a vengeance and wield your sword into 2019. I don't give a fuck if you had your biggest loss or your hamster died - no person can judge another person's hurt. I am here if your 2018 was a hellscape.
And I hope your 2019 is a better place.
I often come here to get feelings out through my fingers and into the keys. I am not sure I can do that tonight.
What I can do is express a little -
2018 was a very hard year. The hardest. And I know plenty who felt the same. Many of us tried our hardest to find ways to dig out of holes when the dirt seemed to fall perpetually and to be a blizzard.
Tonight I got a text from a friend that simply said, "We made it."
And we did.
This year I experienced the hardest losses of my life, but I have also learned lessons.
I have learned lessons on love, loss, trust, lies, selfishness, and how to just survive.
I have seen the best and worst of people.
But, the biggest lesson I can take from 2018 is friendship.
I fear using names in case I miss someone. This is not the intent.
I have made friends who I would trust with my life, and one special friend who I spend weekly sushi dates with and who I trust my life with.
That is one name I will use. Jason, you have been my rock. Thank you for days eating tuna rolls and listening to my broken, then mending heart. You are my best friend and I could have never asked for a better person to come into my life. I am so happy you have also found your happiness. This life is a journey, and I am so happy we can be buddies and vent through it all over wasabi. I would not have made it without you.
I have lost friends. I have lost people I trusted with my life and who I would have never guessed would not be here right now. This time last year I sat at this exact table, typing hopeful words and falling for a fairy tale that was a pretty, painted fiction. Naive. This time last year I was hopeful. I am hopeful again this year, but not because of hollow text and promises, but because of real actions. I have learned a lot.
And now I know a lot about what love is and is not.
Never again will I be a fooled little girl.
And some of the people who have helped keep my head above water cannot be thanked enough. I hope you know who you are. I hope you know how much I love you and how appreciated you are.
And then there is that one person who has been there through it all, who had a sixth sense for when I was at home on the couch feeling my lowest, and who would talk to pick me up, make me smile.
For whatever reason, I remember every second we talked and every interaction. You were always standing out to me. And now you stand out even more as the most important person in my life going into 2019. My biggest regret is being blind to it until now.
He was the person who I eventually met in the gym, talked to in the hall for ages and who I couldn't keep my eyes off and who wouldn't stop making me laugh. He still does.
And the simple sound of his voice on the phone is my favourite thing in the world.
I hope you know what you are to me now.
2018 was a fucking cesspool.
And you can subtweet or mansplain my part in it as much as you want, but at the end of the day you need to just jam your fingers up your hole and have a spin because I'm not having it.
Nor should anyone who has hurt this year put up with someone else telling you how to feel, or that someone else had it worse. Someone always has it worse, but that is not a measuring stick on your life.
If turning the page on the calendar makes you feel like you have a new start I am happy for you, and I hope you get the reset you need.
I know I am heading into 2019 with the best friends and best support I have had in my life.
And the most hope.
So, my dear, fuck you to 2018. Fuck you.
And, if 2018 was bad for you, fuck that too. Only you can weigh your hurt and anger, nobody else. "But starving kids in Africa" was a comparison our parents leveled in the 1980s when we didn't eat our Kraft Dinner. Sometimes your heartbreak or hurt do not give a fuck.
I wish you love, I wish you peace, and I wish you a kickass 2019 that is better that the shitpile we are leaving behind.
And remember, when we rise from the ashes, we rise as the whole god damned fire.
Happy 2019, y'all.