Of how far you’ve come.

Of where you’re going.

Of all the bullshit you’ve endured already in this life. Nay, this year.

That this, too, will somehow pass. No matter the shattering of hearts and testing of resilience.

That friends are really important.

That family is even more so.

That age is just a number. Like a street address or a phone number on caller ID reminding you of your past.

Of where you were this time last year.

Of how you didn’t know what a difference a year would make.

Of where you are now. Now might not be so good… but it will be better. It’s always better.

And that next year you’ll be another year older and there will be more imbalances with your hormones, so just. stop. stressing.