Dear Everyone,

    New Years, for some reason, always fills me with a dull longing. In fact, the entire holiday season, stretching from Thanksgiving until my birthday in March is a quiet time for me. And I don't know why. It's a sweet mix of nostalgia, stress and confusion that makes these days different for me. Maybe it's because I feel like my year has been wasted. That it's been dulled and appraised and left in the attic because the New Year has begun. I don't understand the cheering and celebration that comes with a New Year, you're just starting again. You're one year closer to your last birthday.
     Maybe it's because my "best moments" on Instagram were given to me by a website, pulling up pictures that got the most feedback from my followers. Moments such as walking home from the grocery store with someone who I didn't care for and it started snowing right outside of school so we took pictures. I forget that that day even existed. Another one of my best moments was a picture of me finishing a ballet variation that I was rehearsing, and I cropped out my legs in the picture because I hated them so much.
     Maybe it's because my actual best moments are only mine. Moments that I had to myself. Moments that went on in my head, things only I could see. Revelations that I made and choices that effected how 2015 went.

    Maybe it's because 2015 was a great year. And by great I don't mean awesome and I loved every second of it. I mean great as in, wow so much happened in only 365 days and I am 356% percent different.

    Here's to the New Year.

    Signed,
    Emma