The cold is coming. I actually had to whip out an autumn coat and scarf yesterday, and the heat has also kicked in at the apartment. It’s gradually darker and darker when I leave the apartment in the morning to hit the gym, which has been a bit depressive (and a poor excuse for me to only have gone once this week. I even skipped yoga yesterday, which was pathetic).
As winter slowly creeps up on us, I am reminded that the year is quickly coming to and end, with November coming next week, and Thanksgiving and Christmas just around the corner. I think about all the goals that I’ve set for myself this year – getting in shape and being aggressive about morning workouts, a new job with a higher salary and a happier work environment, trying to meet more people, travel, Wellesley alumnae club involvement, reading a book a month, and as always, trying new things. For the most part, I’ve checked off every one of these boxes, and while that seems great, I still feel like I am in a lull.
Because even though I might have done all these things this year and done whatever it is I have done in the last nearly 28 years of my life, the one area where I have completely failed is saving my brother. 2013 will be the year in my life that will always stand out as the last year my Ed lived, the last year where I hugged my brother and spoke with him in the flesh, and the last year where I could speak about my Ed in present tense. It is an intensely lonely feeling.