The 31st.

'I'm drunk, so I can't make any promises for tomorrow or after. But god damn I love you.'

The words slip out as the bells toll; new year, new year, 2014, magnificent and terrifying, splendid and tipsy. Start as you mean to go on. 
After a notable amount of cider, a bottle of vodka mixed elegantly with fruit juice, and some good old faithful Jack with his buddy Coke, I'm suitably sustainably sloshed and ready to see in the new year. Start fresh. Resolutions: many. Better self-control, put my all into everything I do, stop making excuses, do more yoga and rise above the stupid behaviour. Also, make things right with friends, prioritize better the ones I care most about, throw away ancient grudges and move past old jealousy. Put my heart into my relationship - that one's done. It was done when I heard his words in my ear, and I all too quickly returned them, hushed and fully immersed in the moment. Everything was golden and happy, my very being was ablaze and all I could see were clear calm oceans to sail upon. 
I know it was too soon, and he knows, too. We've held off since, snuggling back into the old routine of just liking, and lazy mornings. But someday we'll say it again. And I'll feel that marvellousness all over me, all over again. I'm waiting for that day. It could be tomorrow, it could be a month away. But I know it'll come. 


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