Everyone I have loved, I’ve loved in years.
2020 was the first. Naive and innocent, it saw the world behind doe-eyes. It was the process of learning to walk but wanting to run while knowing no guidance had been written yet.
2021 was electric. The taste of something new, something different. It was high in all the same ways it was low, but that’s what made it exciting.
2022 was sweet. The first glimpse of thinking about forever, of questioning the five, ten, fifteen year plan—of trying to make that plan in the first place.
2023 was denial. The stress of giving three years of my life to others. Of trying to figure out who was left I could give myself to and realizing the only one left was myself.
With 2024 still yet to be written, I hope it is caring. There has been grief and forgiveness and so much life, and I am selfish for more, determined to get it.
brittany given. 