I'd like to say it was a good run, but if I'm being honest, it was painful. Excruciating. Torturous.
I know the grass is always greener saying, but 2021 has a twinkle in its eye. It may treat me just as badly - that's a chance I'm more than willing to take at this point. Anything has to be better than this.
Unfortunately, I can't say it's me and not you. Because it's totally you. You've treated me (and many others) horribly.
I'd like to think I'll eventually look back on this time with a few fond memories. Nope. No way in hell.
You scrambled my senses, laughed at my aspirations, and made sure my progress stagnated. Your time was always more important than my own. Utter selfishness.
The only positive I can pull from all of this is that you likely made me stronger, more willing to adapt as needed, even if it means doing something I never imagined doing before. Isn't that always the case, though? We learn from the bad. And, oh man, you were bad.
So, with a sigh of relief, I bid you adieu. All the cliches come to mind: don't let the door hit you on the way out, you're getting kicked to the curb, miss you never, sayonara sucker. Ad nauseum.
That time of yours you so valued above my own? Yeah, it's run out.
Author Note: I hope you liked my Dear John letter of sorts. I'm sure many of you are feeling something similar! I won't be talking about what I didn't accomplish with my 2020 writing goals, as I think the above says enough. Next week it'll be 2021, and I'll have a fresh new post with my goals for the New Year. Happy reading!