December 31st has this very particular taste. A bittersweet mix of the past and the future that makes us forget, more than any other day, that time is linear and -unless you die- you’ll always have another day to live after the one you are living now.
It’s today when, after some weeks of creative drought, that I feel inspired enough to write a few lines about the year that will no longer be after tonight. And what a year it has been! Looking back it seems hard to believe the conditions in which I started 2014. Broken foot, wallet and heart. Bored and locked inside my flat, watching sunny afternoons go by as insignificantly as the sweat drops falling down my warm summer armpits. Crazy, huh?
364 days after that, my summer armpits keep sweating. The wallet is even emptier, but the foot is not broken anymore, nor the heart. “Miracles happen,” they say, as miracles happened to me. As she happened -and still happens- to me.
L, my beloved viking, came back into my life. Her path, which I thought will never be near mine again, switched direction and -pretty much- crashed into my existence. That brought a chain of events that I was too slow to follow, and too dumb to react to.
Can’t say I’m proud of what I did. Still now, when all of that lies buried in the fading sands of the past; I regret my actions. Because I am used to take shit, be stepped on and hurt. It’s been kind of my thing, back in the day. But to hurt is not my specificality. To cause pain and to live with the guilt doesn’t -and haven’t- come easy to me. That being said, can’t see an alternative way in which things could have gone differently and have had the same end. A shame, indeed.
Yet not all was nor has been darkness and struggle. My mum, a very mystical beautiful creature, wrote for this year’s horoscope that I would have a very important travel by the second half of the year. “Yeah, right” I thought, when I read that last December. That seemed impossible, as impossible as it was moving around my apartment jumping on one foot; knowing that I had to pay for my foot surgery. A very fucking expensive foot surgery, that is. Though I did not only travel. I went all the way overseas to meet and propose to L, that cloudy day in Wales; and to meet her family and friends in Norway. Quite a change of circumstances, right?
But it hasn’t been just a year for personal enlightenment and sexual and emotional healing. Career-wise the good old ‘014 have left a profound print in my journey as a writer. Actually, the whole journey started properly just this year. I improved my blog and had a killer interview for a documentary. Plus I have been writing a lot more -well, not the last month, but before- and I even self-published my first book in Spanish, “Asesinos y Maricones” (available here and in Amazon!)
So, to sum it all up, 2014 has been a hell of a year. Yes, difficult as fuck, but very rewarding.
And here’s where the author is suppose to say nice things about the coming year and wish you all a kickass 2015. Shut down your criticism after this paragraph.
After this, what can I say? 2015 is approaching and I can even smell it. Smells like a blank slate. Or is it like the first page of a new notebook we just bought? Doesn’t matter. Looks promising. Because, again, I know that time is linear. The change of year is just an illusion, but not an empirical change or restart. Although I know too that it’s a chance to feel like it. To get out there and enjoy the results of the good deeds and learn from the fuck ups of the previous year. To get up in the morning of January 1st all hungover, but hopeful. “This year is gonna be the shit!” we’ll say, anyway. Because it will. We just gotta believe it.
Have a great 2015! I know I will.