A Little Bit Wiser

She stood. Just on the edge as her toes squirmed in her tennis shoes. The flexing of the digits was hardly visible beneath the plastic casing of her shoes. The view was a city of lights. Raising her hand, she could mentally feel the cold of those burning stars overhead. Her eyes took in the spectacular skyline from the roof top as if it was a crystalline object shimmering beneath a glass case. Skyscrapers huddled something akin to a focal point on her right side but, the sounds of the city would not be cast aside. Distant music found some odd harmony on the high breeze. A whispered cacophony of neighboring voices, tvs, and radios littered the air with joy for New Years.

A soft breeze brushed the hair on the back of her neck but, the sensation failed in comparison to the mind at odds. As if entirely oblivious, the breeze stretched its fingers and played with her hair. It pulled loose tendrils across her face, lightheartedly veiling her view of the city laid out at her feet. The darkness of the apartment behind her was all too similar with what light was before her. The absence of warmth was inescapable. The woman had been ready for some time now. Nothing much was left to amend. Only one thing stood amiss.

Cries of cheer erupted into the air. New Years day had come, January first was here. With it came the revolving door of threats, lies, and fainthearted hope that she was loathe to repeat. The tumult of noise was hardly enough to cancel out a repetitive, simple tone that she had not heard in a while. Her phone vibrated in a back pocket. It was clearly the reminder tone. Although, she did not have the heart left to answer family or friends there was a curiosity to see why she had left a reminder to go off today.  She knew all of the alerts her phone made and when she checked her phone for this reminder the subject line read her name. Time stamped January 1 and delivered on January 1 for today. Attached to the reminder was a note. She began reading.

“Dear Samantha,

I think the world is pretty but, it isn’t enough. It has never been enough. Today I’m not feeling so good. I hope tomorrow feels better. It’s supposed to be a new year, new me, new things. The only way I can think to make things new again for real though is to reset. Like when I am playing a game and don’t like how things turn out. I want to blame something and I feel guilty. I am the one to blame. I moved to the city so I could get lost. I thought I could just blend in and just be a plebeian. Everything, one, continues to find fault in me. I cannot seem to get out of this cycle of needing to change to get better at something I do not want to be better at. It’s exhausting, because I don’t know what to be better at let alone what I want or need.”

Samantha stops. The letter is to herself, written a year ago when she had as much hope as today. It felt cold. The darkness of the apartment at her back, the light of city illuminating her visage, she was standing all alone. Tears acted as glue for the loose strands of hair that stuck to her face. She sniffled as her nose began to congest. Exhaustion was setting in and yet, there was more to read.

“I hope that life gets better. I know that life is a struggle. In a way, not everyone is supposed to make it to old age. How many people die young for horrible reasons? I’ve thought that maybe I should have died and escaped death. Maybe that’s why I feel I shouldn’t be here. Maybe I’m just supposed to die. I could die any number of horrible ways, so why not do it on my own terms? I’m going to miss a lot of things though.”

The crying increased. It hurt Samantha in places she couldn’t explain. Unable to stand but, wanting to finish the letter to herself, she sat down on the edge of the balcony. She rubbed her eyes and pulled her hair back. The wetness of her tears now helping hold the loose strands from her face.

“I would like to give it one more year. On the anniversary of this letter I will not be the same person writing this. I hope I will be a little bit wiser. This year I want to just exist. I want to focus on the little things that make me happy. I want to listen more and sit outside often. I want a fish, a pretty one. I will take myself out on a date at least once a month. I think I can start there. This is my New Year’s Resolution.”

Overhead a plane boomed as if a reminder to Samantha that the world was still moving. By now her shirt was tugged, wet, and cold. Her reading had been laced with reminiscing over the last year since she had written the note. Even now there was gum in her purse, she had bought herbal plants, and always kept a scent tag in her car. These were the small things she had done that she enjoyed. The apartment she lived in was small but, it had nice landscaping and instead of the bustle of a park she felt safe sitting outside of her apartment. The endeavor to sit outside had not lasted too long. She had begun reading a book series and immersed herself in that. Samantha had not purchased a fish as company. The one date she had taken herself on had been to a store with food samples. At that store she bought herself a massive stuffed bear. It made for a much better companion, no feeding or watering needed. Samantha’s lips contorted into a small smile amidst her continued tears. She did not feel as if she had failed in keeping her last years resolutions. It made her want to make new goals, simple goals that she was curious to see if she could fulfill.

Samantha was tired but, she felt like trying and she did want some gum. It was enough motivation for her to get off the ledge and go to bed.