Well, it’s that time of year again. Time to pop open a bottle of bubbly in the company of friends and sing “Auld Lang Syne” out of tune as we reflect on the highs and lows of the last twelve months– the triumphs and heartbreaks, the mistakes made, the dreams unrealized, and the loved ones lost.
New Year’s Eve may be a time of celebration for most, but certainly not for all. There’s no doubt that 2015 was kinder to some of us than others, and it’s for those others that tonight is less of a celebration and more of an evaluation– it becomes a moment in time to take stock of our own personal failures from the prior year and determine what kind of mettle we’re made of and what sort of shape we’re in heading into the coming one. Many of us will attempt to address our shortcomings from this year with resolutions for the next– optimistic ideals and aspirations which, if history is any indicator, will typically fade or fall apart after a few months (as best intentions are want to do). But that’s exactly what’s so wonderful about the future– absolutely anything is possible, and there’s no harm in hoping for the best.
So kiss your sweethearts when the clock strikes twelve and count your blessings if you’ve got ’em. As for me, I’ll do my best not to be too bitter about tonight and simply say “adios” to last year. So fuck you, twenty-fifteen– you won’t be missed. Don’t let the door hit your miserable ass on the way out.