Wallace Stegner once said, "Most things break, including hearts. The lessons of life amount not to wisdom, but to scar tissue and callus." The years that came before you had broken my heart so that I was encased in caution when we met on vacation last January. Yet you wooed me anyway, using the foreign land in which we were deliberately and happily stranded as your chisel. The air was different in that part of the world. It pressed against my skin, heavy with history; it was fragrant with culture and tradition. I'd never felt more alive before and, somehow, it all seemed possible only because of you. Suddenly, you were a fresh start, a resolution to forget the past and move forward with purpose. I fell in love with you under those now-distant skies.
I thought I could make the feeling last forever with you 2006 and we made it work during those first few months back from vacation. You made routine seem euphoric and new; the world was luscious and sweet and I, I was invincible--to heartbreak, pain, regret, fear, loneliness. I was unflappable. We were happy. I have memories from those early months that I will take with me wherever I go. I hope you can do the same.
You see, 2006, I don't have any regrets about our time together. It was fun while it lasted. You were a better conversationalist than 2000 could ever be (it's all about a person's BREADTH of knowledge, isn't it) and way hotter than 2003. 1999 could learn a few things from you about kissing and I'd like to forget that 2005 ever happened. I must say, however, that you rather pulled the rug out from under me. I don't want to dwell on the issues for they might seem inconsequential, trivial when compared to the massive amounts of sorrow, pain, and agony you've likely brought to others who, regardless of whether or not they fell under your spell, were, and still are, subject to your indiscriminate will. But you still hurt me. You became full of the kind of unrequitedness that leaves a bitter taste in one's mouth and a tight, cold fist where the heart used to be. You toppled ideals and hopes and I cried one time too many because of you.
Yes, this is exactly what it sounds like 2006. I'm breaking up with you...in an open letter...on my blog. I want you to know that thanks to you, I'm fully and securely armored against all of the years that will follow. And, don't get it wrong: it's YOU, not ME. You're old, outdated and fast approaching your expiration date. Thanks for the memories, but 2006, you bastard, I'm afraid we're through.