Dear New Year, oh Baby Decade:
I dressed up for you last night, but now I have dirty hair and haven't showered yet. It's our first day together and it's not filled with the romance I hoped for, instead plagued by a headache and a loneliness that together relegate me to shut-in status.
Since our relationship is new, I thought we should get on the same page about what we're doing together here over the next 12 months, nay, 10 years. I know you would like me to lose weight, to be kind and to cry less. I will do my best, but there are a few things I need from you:
I would like to not be sexually pillaged, assaulted, or otherwise victimized. However, I would like to have sex.
I would like insurance, or some assurance that I will not be hit by a car, catch malaria, get pregnant, or cut my finger while slicing limes.
I would like to remember the good times and be able to stop thinking about the bad times.
I would like to get married. I don't need a house in the suburbs or babies or curtains or a bridal registry. Just somebody to love.
I hope to sleep well at night and get up early in the morning.
I don't need a fancy job with a prestigious title and corporate perks. I would just like to work on something I love and not worry about paying the rent.
I need things to take pictures of. They can be people, color, lights, fruit, dead leaves, abandoned buildings, or sand-buried bottles, just something to inspire me.
I would like a pet-friendly apartment with a bedroom and then, a pet. Preferably one I'm not allergic to.
Less alcohol, more intoxication.
You don't have to understand me, 2010. Just accept me for who I am, and accept the things I cannot change.
Don't break my heart on Valentine's Day. Don't leave me alone on Independence Day. Don't make me regret my own birth on my birthday. And please don't make me cry on New Year's Eve, like I always do....
Love, your servant,
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