every december 31st for the past few years i’ve crawled into bed at an ungodly early hour, alone, to jot down hopeful dreams and make vision boards i wouldn’t stay up to watch the clock strike twelve or hear the chaos of when the ball drops in time square over the television i would go to sleep in whatever spotless rental i was currently living in with the lingering smell of bleach & lavender surface cleaner from furiously cleaning that day wrapped up in bed full of hope and overflowing with dread because i always imagined that i’d just know when my dreams started clicking into place that it would be like waking up and that 5000 piece puzzle is complete i never accounted for the fact that more often than not it’s just simply, not that simple the puzzle pieces don’t just fall into place all at once instead it usually goes something like - start a puzzle, forget about it for two months, get all the border pieces in place only to realize you hate it, try out a new one, lose ten pieces, start over with another, and then take ten years to finish it as per usual i’m beginning to ramble but i think what i’m really trying to say is life takes time closure takes time change takes time and every single mishap, loss, and meltdown is a part of that vision board except pinterest doesn’t have aesthetic photos of us losing our jobs or living off of peanut butter crackers or getting divorces it took me five years to finally realize that so tonight i’ll go to bed after filling another page in my journal with intentions, using photos of strangers’ lives in my vision board, and deeply grateful for the puzzle that is my life with it’s missing pieces, to be determined completion date, and the possibility that i might end up hating it and starting all over again anyway