Dear 2007,

You taught me that I am complicated beyond even my own recognition. You taught me that people like to appear complicated and that I should know better. You taught me that I am beyond myself, and that life is far worse in this respect. You taught me to love, be loved, and what haste means as a result. You truly are typical, like the rest of the years that came before you. Entwining me in confusing episodes of unnecessary theatrics, and then leaving me to sort through the carnage on my own, abandoned, confused and full of regret. Dear 2007, you taught me that I’m still the same exasperating/self-exasperating boy that your predecessors tried to fix and so blamelessly gave up on.

Yours sincerely,
Elias