Battles, losses and hopes.
Charles Dickens opens his novel A Tale of Two Cities with the line “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times”. This couldn’t better describe the year 2013.
Sixteen days overdue, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling of reflecting the year of of broken heart strings, promises and relationships; the year of wide eyed smiles, sweet smelling embraces and tear stained laughter. Two-thousand and thirteen truly was the most eclectic mixture of joy and pain and hopefulness.
What 2013 took away:
- My father.
- My Grandmother.
- The ability to believe in lukewarm relationships.
- Some much loved and comfortable friendships.
- Complete trust in everyone whom I met.
- Belief in my abilities.
- The living situation of a typical seventeen year old.
- My perception of people.
- Self esteem.
- My Grandmother’s health.
- Faith. In many instances.
- My mother’s happiness.
What 2013 gave:
- Clarity of what constitutes a healthy relationship.
- The ability to distinguish a true friend.
- A unfailing passion for writing.
- A wider vocabulary.
- Nights I wished that would never end.
- A driver’s license.
- A first kiss.
- True belief in my own abilities.
- The AS level grades I dreamed of.
- A month long adventure in Africa.
- The belief to never settle.
- An interview at Cambridge University.
- An offer from the university I dreamed of for several years.
- A truly wonderful love.
What I wish for in 2014:
- A sustained belief in the fact that I will achieve my dreams.
- The ability to keep going, rather than wish for the end.
- For an constant passion to continue writing.
- The fixing of several friendships.
- A wonderful end to my final school year.
- The confidence to know I can love without fear.
- Never to forget my friends.
- To show my mother my appreciation.
- Fearlessness for when I move out.
- To smile every day.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.