No resolutions this year. So much is up in the air. Firm goals make no sense.

I have left 2013 in much the same way that I entered it - by waiting. Then, it was on the hope of a job offer or something equally nebulous that might allow me to see Arden again. Now, I’m waiting for a courier to return my visa-stamped passport to me, so I can leave the country and stay in my partner’s arms indefinitely.

It’s different, though. I didn’t quite the poetry of ringing the new year in with my fiancé, but I did get the reassurance that it wouldn’t be long. And maybe that’s enough. Only a couple more weeks, rather than another year that feels like it’ll never end.

I have big hopes for next year. I want to finally put out my book, and I can see that happening by the end of spring. I want to find a job in the US, even though that might take some time. I’m excited for my wedding. But really, it’s the little facts of everyday life that I can’t wait for. I want to wake up next to someone in the morning. Arden and I can occupy the same space in total silence, each of us doing our own thing, and I find that more comforting than if I was doing the same alone. To have something like that every day, rather than a luxury I look forward to in a two-week stretch once a year, is something so wonderful that I’m still coming to terms with it.

I’m going to write more, even though I wrote a lot this year. I’m going to watch more movies. Consume and create. My hope is to come out at the end of this year a better person than when I went in, but it’d be nice not to suffer as much.

I don’t think I will.