In Review

Oh December.














You came in like a lamb


































and are going out like a man eating virus.















Wow. I haven't the right words to describe you. The start of you was great.


































































































The ending rather placid too.








































It was your prickly middle that stung and cut me in places I hadn't anticipated.














You left bite marks on my patience and bruises where there was (so very) recently resolve.















We had our ups and downs, me and you December. And in the end, you forced my hand on more than one occasion, in more than one way. I pushed on you and you pushed me back even harder. We came to know each other and understand that sometimes you don't always deserve balance. And that's okay.

What matters is that we were never at a standstill for very long. My character gnawed and clawed its way out of its cage because of you and now I understand exactly what I am made of.

And it's okay.
It is good, in fact.














I am weak at heart and strong of will.














I am loveless, hopeful, practical, determined,




















unbending, inflexible and predictable as hell. Because I need to know what comes next. They need to know what comes next.




















So I show up to do the building. Create the hours, cultivate days, harvest our moments.




















It is up to me not to jack it all up to an unrecognizable state.



























And with that pressure I give to myself, I am sometimes mean, joyless, selfish, and skull numbingly tired.




















Inside December I learned what happens when I no longer recognize me.

And it's okay.
It is great, in fact.
December, now I understand you. It wasn't that you were pushing afterall. You were pulling. I was the one who couldn't feel the direction. Face down, alone and in love with being mad as hell I woke up fighting with those things I could not change nor did not want entirely different in the long run.

You pulled.
And I mouthed off.
You pulled harder.
I cursed you for not leaving me alone.
And not once, not even a little bit did you ever let go.

I should've trusted you from the beginning, December.

But now you're free to leave, to become an old calendar's page of memories.

And that's okay.
It is great, in fact.








































I got the rest from here on out. Yes, I got this.