A New Year

January 1, 2011

I have not been around. Just before I posted last, a beloved friend took her own life. Winter came early to Durham. I lost my way with the snow and the lack of her.

We had made promises, but it wasn’t enough. She tried to say goodbye, and I missed it. All I can hope–and it’s a stupid and indulgent thing–is that at the end she wasn’t lonely.

I loved that girl. And I know she knew that.

And now it’s a new year. Or will be, soon. And I am guarding its birth from my bed, all walled up as I am in blankets, with my notebooks and Joyce and Kundera and McGann for company. I have a pot of tea, I have a new pen, and I will have a new year by morning. I don’t know how to approach that. 2010 feels an unfinished year, curiously. It is the first I am reluctant to let go of, and not for happiness, but for lack. I would like to find something in 2010, something to recommend it before it goes.

But we all need our fallow time, and I comfort myself with my biding of it. To 2011 then, in which I will wreck chaos!


2 Responses to “A New Year”

  1. Oh sweet girl. I am so, so, so sorry. I didn’t know. I hope you are trying to look out for yourself. Please let me know if I can do anything. xx

    • lucyshena Says:

      Thank you, darling. I am being careful. I miss her terribly. She was an incredible woman.

      Sending so much love! Feeling a wee bit homesick tonight. Wish we could go and eat waffle balls… xxx

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