A Good Year To Be Wrong About Everything

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Time to stop dissembling, I tell myself. 
Je dois admettre que ça fait mal.
Chaque instant de ces dix dernières années me blesse.
Mais mes pensées vont plus vite que la larme solitaire qui coule sur ma joue. Mon esprit parcourt les possibilités qui s'ouvrent devant moi. Vraiment, je préfère "exprimer" mes émotions plutôt que de les ressentir.
Bonne année, mon amour. Je chéris ce délire collectif dans lequel on laisse derrière soi le passé, basé sur une fausse délimitation du temps.

Time to admit/ yes
It hurts, all of it, every last aspect of the last ten years and beyond.
But even before that sad, solitary tear can make its way down my cheek I'm already thinking, my mind racing ahead to the possibilities, all the ways in which I can express my "newfound" emotions ~ because god forbid I spend more than ten seconds actually FEELING them.🙄

Here's to a new year, and to the collective delusion that we hold which says we can leave whatever happened so far behind us when switching from one random wintry day to another, based on concepts of time demarcation we also fully made up. 

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