I want you to be a good year.
I don't mean good in the sense where everything goes well and according to plan.
I want you to be a good year. Full of growth and unexpected adventures and change, because change is what both scares and exhilarates me the most.
I want you to be a year that romances me, as HB says. A song full of life and love (not necessarily the romantic kind) and laughter.
I want you to be my Adele year. The year that I stop singing my sad songs and writing about heartbreak and love and loss, and stop thinking about that boy I fell in love with, and the couple others whom I loved and who taught my heart how to love. I want to sing about water under the bridge and about the man who looks like a movie + sounds like a song and about the pain of growing older + saying hello to the younger you and about the carefree days of childhood + being a teenager that seem like a million years ago.
2016, I want you to be a love song that serenades me. A love song - not about any man or boy, because I've tasted love and romance and dating and I've had my fill for now - for me.
I want this year to be the year I give myself permission to serenade myself.
Because I can do good all by myself.
And 2016, this 23-year-old survivor is ready. I've survived almost a quarter of a century - and most importantly, I survived being blonde and the entirety of 2015 and lived to tell the tale.
This is a year to be brave.