December beginning..

Always a kind of beginning afoot, even at the end of something. Semantics at worst. No scenario to it. There's a December to everything. When I wanted to stay longer somewhere, not go home even though it was time, my mother would say "if you don't go, you can't come back" (if it never ends, it won't ever beginagain.) I'm still working on that one. She liked those little sayings. Not sure whether I did back then.

We hope for the Januaries, the new, the untested, the unopened door (maybe). The hope? Blind (or the denial of our) positivity overrides any realistic dread. But to ignore the Decembers? Missing out.