New Year

New Year and I already think this year is trying to kill me. New Year's Eve I woke up with a terrible throat, and noticed I was mute. I guess mute was a good thing, so then I had a reason not to talk. But soon later I realised my limbs were weak and I struggled to walk without getting tired and having to rest them. My chest hurt, and it wasn't the broken heart. My head hurt, and it wasn't the roaming bad thoughts. My nose hurt, and it wasn't the lack of the smell of him. My lips heart, and it wasn't the lack of his touching mine. It wasn't me. It was God. He was showing me this is a new year for a new start. When I say new, there wasn't going to be some drastic change in my hair, or my bag or my face. There was going to be a change in everything. The way I think about people, the way I talk to them, the way I act, the way I am with my friends. I was going to change, be it good, be it bad. And it would help me, not anyone else but me. I was going to change me for me so I'd worry less and focus more on the things that count.

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