Happy New Year, Lovey

Hi lovey. It’s so good to see you back again. How long has it been? It seems like a mighty long time. Time united us with poetic grace, only to part us with cruel indifference. I think about that a lot. Do you? 

I welcomed 2025 in the embrace of Beyoncé’s “Love Drought” and the effervescence of Veuve Clicquot, as fireworks painted the sky. It was quiet yet loud and it felt like a nice warm hug after the last year we all had.

Every day last year was a quiet battle, a test of endurance I hadn’t signed up for but faced nonetheless. I wrestled with my bipolar demons, cared for my little sister after her motorcycle accident, and worked tirelessly to find peace within myself. The truth is, I mourn my past life—a life brimming with wonder and curiosity, a tapestry woven with the threads of countless friends and lovers. But above all, I grieve my career—a decade of hard-fought triumphs, gone in the blink of an eye, leaving behind only echoes of what once defined me.

Who am I without a career, without friends? I don’t know. Some days, I feel like a hollow shell, going through the motions. I wake up, take one step at a time—but toward what, I can’t say. And that’s why I’m writing to you today, lovey. To lay it all out, to let you know that I’m trying—trying to find my way back to you, step by uncertain step.

Perhaps this is a call for all of us to create and treasure new memories in 2025. And maybe, just maybe, on the other side of it all, you’ll find the version of yourself you’ve been searching for. I sure hope I do.

Happy New Year, lovey.