I forgot about the blue heron

People always talk about good years.
About the good times and the good memories.
And they try and forget about the bad.
Or at least, they won't tell you about them.
They'll simply think about them when they're alone.
Most people like to do their crying in private.

My parents and I were talking about Christmas this year.
About the things we wanted to do, the things we loved.
I asked if my brother and I would still get stockings because that's my favorite.
And my mom said yes and that we did them last year.
And my dad said, no, we didn't.
And I agreed with mom and argued that we had.
But dad, remembering accurately, said no, that was another year.
Last year we didn't.
Last year was different.

I'd forgotten.
I guess I'd forgotten some other things too.
I'd forgotten that tomorrow marks a year.
A year since I've heard from the kid who still manages to haunt my memories.
And at the most inopportune times.
I wonder if I still ever creep into his mind.
Like some canadian penny unwanted amidst all his change.

Last year was a bad year.
A wretched, frightful, god awful year.
And I survived.

And now this year is nearly over and in some small way, in my own tiny little world, I feel like I've caught the moon.
I walked through those floods and still managed to see the planes flying overhead, guiding me forward.
And I still hold my breath when I glance up and see one unexpectedly.
Little things catch me off guard.

I met someone.
He's not mine in anyway.
Not my lover or my soul mate or my beau.
He just is someone who took the time to see me.
And listen.
And stay after my story was over.

And I feel like a girl again.
I feel like I remembered the person I was before last year tried to make me disappear.

And I love how I feel.

I love that I no longer have a desire to look back to a past that did nothing to nurture my future.
And I hope it stays there.
I hope my past lets my new memories replace the old.

Because I deserve that.

We all do.

And it's impossible to see the twinkle lights sparkling before you when your mind is somewhere else.
You simply miss it.
And this year, this time,
this is a good one.

At least I sure hope so.

It can't be bad if my heart is smiling with such hope.
Can it?