You are almost up and I’m sure many people had a lot to say about you. We all do, honestly. However, some other people get mad saying that it was not your fault – “don’t blame the year, blame yourself” and all that yetta yetta yetta. If you think of you as a social stipulated set of time, separated by days, months and years then, my friend, I’m sorry to tell you – you were horrible.

Yes, people: I do know that every decision we made in our past led us exactly where we are today and it is not the year that was bad it was merely an amount of great shit that happened to someone (self-imposed or not) and that people should live their lives accordingly and they are the only ones that could change a single thing and that we are responsible and we should stop living life as society expect us to. We all know that, thanks.

So, 2016, by far, you were one of my worst years: I had to say goodbye to a dear friend. I had to learn, once again, how to deal with work, expectations, money issues, work again and, worst of all, how to keeping loving when love was escaping my fingers. You pretty much got me up and down as fast as a blink of an eye. But you still have me here, head up and all.

2012 and you are head to head on this dispute, but let me tell you something: whatever happened in 2012 is there. It doesn’t belong here – nor with me anymore. The girl I was four years ago is way too different than the one writing this to you – and that is the damn beauty of everything. Because people get upset we blame years when, but give it time and we won’t remember anything as vivid and as painfully. And we will face so more difficult times and be again devastated and believe once again we cannot survive another day – and time will fly and we will learn.

2016, you were pretty horrible. A mess. A total chaos. And we are still here. Thanks for all the valuable lessons – they will be put to good use from now on.

What a week, huh? So worried about so much unnecessary shit, trying to make everyone else feel comfortable and making their lives easier while your own is falling apart and you didn’t even notice.

It took only one node on your right breast to pull the floor away from your feet. One node. And here you are, trying to make sense of everything, trying to figure out what the fuck you did wrong to have to go through this. But, does it matter?

Whatever the outcome of this, you can deal with this on your own. You always did everything on your own and you are still alive, so this time won’t be any different. Just face this shit and get out of it.

It is highly questionable to write about this, once I’m constantly doing exercises on love and meditation (sorry, Gustavo Gitti), but I can’t help to question (unceasingly and obsessively) why on earth someone I haven’t spoken to in years, nor even seen, thinks it is ok to add me on social media. I mean – those who are my friends, which know me, are still by my side. Even if “by my side” I mean there is a freaking ocean between us. (this is you, Bia!)

When you coldly analyze people that once belonged in your life – rather they just made a quick cameo or stayed for some significant amount of time – you put on the table how they walked in and how or why they left (if they ever did). So, sometimes I do get myself thinking of people I haven’t seen in years and years try to walk in as if nothing. I’m trying to apologize for my mistakes in the past – not adding people, but e-mail, maybe a (long) facebook msg. Or, maybe, try to go for a coffee (or run into them in the drugstore). Point is, I don’t feel inclined to try to walk in again as if it was just a little pause. We are not friends, we haven’t spoken in over a decade!

THEN, it hits me. I still hold some sort of grudge. It doesn’t really matter what happened – I never dealed with it properly and therefore I just buried and let it in the past. But yeah, I do hold grudges. You, dude that broke up with me over the phone – that was pathetic and I was damn young and it was sad. Ok, now I’m good. You, who talked trash about me – well, I guess karma already knocked your door. You, that I lied to: I’m deeply sorry. I was an asshole and there is no excuse to that. My first boyfriend – what an abusive relationship we had, huh? I still carry, to this day, every word you said to me. And let me tell you, sometimes I still get depressed (a very deep “I’m sorry” to my psychiatrist).

But I do hope all of you are happy and healthy. I hope you all love life and have a pretty damn nice time. And I love you all.