the year of risks and stubbornness and vegetables.
the year of ink in my skin and itching in my feet.
the year of saying 'yes', and of learning my right to say 'no'. the year where nothing was good enough, but there was good in everything.
of realising power and channelling pain.
of finally understanding that love is not a boyfriend and a label and a claim of forever, but rather the unspoken promise of all those who will never leave.
the year that the barricade was lowered an inch and goodness poured in.
the year of adventures, and mountains, and lung-shredding gulps of cold air.
the year of a truce. an apology. a promise to cherish myself.
when everything tasted of potential, when the blood in my veins pumped fearlessness right to the tips of my fingers and toes.
when the game of hide & seek finally ended. when I finally found it. my people, my place, my purpose.
a year soaked in coffee and tears and raindrops.
the year of intertwined limbs, and held hands, and kissing kissing kissing.
of realising that loving others starts with loving myself.
that I am worthy.
that I matter.
a very happy hogmanay to you all. if you feel the way I did at this point 365 days ago, I hope 2016 is the year that everything starts to make sense.