Dear 2015,


I’m a little late to the party, but I wanted to say thanks. You were, quite possibly, the best year of my life. I learned a lot of things, went a lot of places, and met a lot of people. School was harder than it’s ever been. I spent many late nights over my computer racking my brain to figure out what more I could possibly say in this paper to make it to page 15. For the first time in my life, I had to decide which homework was essential and which homework I could afford not to do. I stress-cried a little (a lot). But I pulled through. The old GPA is still doing well. I managed to snag a parking spot in a lot that, unlike last year’s spot, is close to my classes. You reminded me to rejoice over the little things. I moved into a new apartment that’s much bigger and homier and less brown than the last one. There’s a mystery stain on the carpet that’s been there since before I moved in and a pesky bug problem, but I like it anyway. It feels nice to come back to at the end of the day. 2015, we had many adventures. July was the adventure of a lifetime. I spent a month exploring England, taking classes with Oxford professors, and buying so many books I had to buy another suitcase for the flight home. I mastered the Tube and found “my” coffee place in Oxford. I made lots of friends. I remember sitting on the banks of the Thames on our last day in England and making plans to start a folk band. We celebrated July by keeping our Taboo tradition at Old Bookbinder’s alive. It was the best month. I saw other new places as well. Edinburgh. Albuquerque. Savannah. Louisville. DC. New York. I met my favorite poet while eating dinner at a stranger’s house. I faced fears. I read my writing in front of real-life humans. I became the editor in chief of a literary journal and had no idea what I was doing. I think mostly, 2015, that you helped me grow. I turned 21. I realized for the first time that I let people, friends, take advantage of me. That sometimes it’s not my job to take care of everyone. These days, I’m trying to stand up for myself, but I’m not so good at that. I’m trying not to question myself so much. 2015, you were good. I saw and learned and grew. If it’s possible, I hope that 2016 is even better and just as full and filled to the brim with good times and joy.



2 thoughts on “Dear 2015,

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