An Anniversary of Sorts

I decided to end the year. It's been almost exactly a year since the bad thing - the mother of all bad things, when my perfect life changed for the worse.

So it's an anniversary, of sorts.

And I'm ending the year here. I've already made up my mind. I'm going to end it and close it and seal it up really tight with a bread twisty-tie or maybe a clothespin or maybe even just by twisting the dark, bitter end of it again and again until it holds itself shut like a sleeve of saltine crackers.

Betrayals. Some worse than others. Most unintentional. Death in the family and rejection in love and betrayal by a friend and loss of a beloved teacher.

All the badness will be stuck inside and the moisture will be drawn out into the air, all the foul memories and miscarriages of dreams helplessly lining the inside. I might look towards them once in a while, but I will never open the bag again.

Now. I'm going to be happy again. I mean it this time.