Every year in December, we are always filled with hope and faith for the next year. We plan big, we have exotic dreams and to-do lists and resolutions to complete. We have a three month plan, a quarterly plan, a financial plan, some thousands of calendar plans, dates blocked – so much of insane planning and booking, blocking and vacay listings.
We never for once have a plan B. We never think what if it all goes to waste? We never plan for the alternative.
2020, what a plot twist you were.
I had so many plans this year. Looking back at it now, all my plans were centred around a growth that now feels superficial to me. A constant running without any sense of settling and loyalty. I always give myself 6 months in any situation. 6 months and I am out. 180 days and I am done.
What if 2020 was a person? Say someone who you had grown attached to, you started to like, a lot. You started to let in that energy, and then bam! You realise 2020 was just teasing you, it never meant to let you warm up, it never had any feelings or any capacity to empathise. And it was proud of that.
It’s not even a person anymore, just a reminiscent of some good times, of a rare glimpse of what normalcy used to look like and a well schemed conspiracy by the universe to trap your heart for a while and force you to go through a spiritual cleanse. Amidst all these idiosyncrasies, when you are trying hard to keep a sense of reality, comes your misplaced sense of trust and believe.
There have been so many times that I wanted to give up. I have literally laid down on the cold tiled floor, crying straight for an hour because I was too numb and exhausted to get up and face life. To be back in the same space with no escape.
I think what truly got me going was that I wanted to believe. And I wanted each weekend to come so that I could have a good sleep knowing this week, we made it.
I know this sounds crazy because as millennials we are told abundantly to shut out any kind of feelings, to not have a warm heart, to slash people before they can hurt us – and amidst all of that I ask you to believe.
I believe in the good.
I believe that it’s been a hell of a year and we still have 6 more months to go. I believe, in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, we will all be okay.
I believe a lot of things.
I believe that sometimes when you least expect to, people can walk into your life and open up your heart. They can show you who you are now and who you are when no one is watching you, and that is important you know. I believe sometimes people can really surprise you, once you decided to let them in. They can feel like your morning coffee brewing, while you stood unmindful for a second, while a rush of peace swept over you.
I believe that sometimes old kisses can be replaced with new ones, that they would have their own taste and it would help you stop remembering old mouths. I believe that some people help you replace old memories with better ones and in that knowledge you realise what you once thought traumatic, was a farce.
And I believe that if I eat a tub of fudge, and no one sees me, the calories don’t count. And I believe that when you like someone, despite all odds, you take the risk of telling them so. I believe you should acknowledge when someone is vulnerable to you about how they feel because God knows their hands shook when they wrote that message.
And I truly believe, that sometimes, people can be extraordinarily stupid to take a moment of love and peace, and trade it for a month of disappointment and heartbreak.
Above all, I believe that we are all capable of being kind, of falling in love with imperfections, of defying the impulse to abandon, to jump the ship.
And I believe that because You are reading this – I can tell You this and we can be okay. I believe even though we all made mistakes this year, You and I will be okay.
I believe we survive.
I believe that believing we survive is what makes us survive.