For a lot of people, and for good reasons they had on the tip of their tongues, it was the worst time to be alive. It was scary, and you could die whenever. There was chaos in the air, wafting through the ochre landscape of autumn.
It didn’t matter if it was the year or just life, in itself. Life was as dreary and dry as the brown and orange leaves, but for what it’s worth, they convinced themselves it was the year. It made sense too, for most of us.
For some of us, we had begun this year on a note that was a tad bit higher than our usual. For some of us—for me—I had let go of my cynicism. It was the year I was supposed to fall in love with everything I could possibly fall in love with.
I remember: on a cold January morning, ecstatic and overflowing with warmth, I felt the sun and decided to look for hope. The world had all of us by the throat, but I was going to smile anyway. That is what I had decided, and that is what I was going to do.
People were good. The world was inherently a good place. It was a mess, sure, but it has been messier before. I was done with the heralds and the news and my general belief that everyone was out to get me. Even if they were, they were fewer. There were more of us. I had to believe there were more of us. There ought to be more of us.
Then, the year passed in a blink of an eye as we stayed inside our little boxes in little buildings, given we had a box to be locked up in. Suddenly, it was autumn already, and the leaves turned auburn and started to die.
Another January was around the corner, and they said it was the worst time to be alive, and yet, I couldn’t shake the sun off. I couldn’t help but smile. I couldn’t help but hope. It took me a lot of time to get here, you see, and I couldn’t give that up. No matter what happened, this was the year I recovered from perpetual hopelessness.
You’d know what I mean if you felt it too. Hope digs deeper into those who have forgotten how selflessly the sun shines. Once its roots set in, you can’t give it up that easy. It won’t let you pull itself out, end of the world or otherwise.
You’d know if you knew. You’d know I wasn’t going to give it up that easy. I had felt the sun.