Dear 2017,

You’re new to our lives, just beginning to push open the door and enter into this world. I’m afraid to say that we’ve wedged the door pretty tightly, as tightly as we can for fear of what you’ll do to us. You see, 2016 treated a lot of us pretty badly, we put up a lot of walls this year and lost a lot of battles. And I know you aren’t supposed to judge the new man by what the old man did, but the old year, the old man, broke every piece of our hearts. Shattered them entirely. We’re still trying to pick ourselves up and put the mess back together right now, and the thought of something new is frightening.

You seem kind though, you seem like a good idea— you’re fresh, new, a brilliantly solid start. I hope that you are, I hope that you are genuinely better than anything we are leaving behind. I hope that the plays made in 2016, the plans and people and ideas put into act treat us more kindly than we anticipated they would this past year.

Twenty-seventeen, this is my love letter to you as we start this brand new relationship. These are my goals, where I hope we’re headed, the ideals that I have for this affair.

I hope that you are gentle with us, I hope that you are tender and caring, that you love us with all you have. I hope that you bring us joy, that you make us laugh more than you make us cry, and that when there are tears, there are more happy ones than there are sad. I’m not asking you to always open the car door or to hold our hands constantly; I’m just asking that you treat us well. You have the potential to light this world on fire, to compliment our lives in ways we’d never imagined. This year, you, our year, these moments that are heading towards us will mold us, somehow, some way. Please make it for the better. Please give us time to heal, to grow steadily, to change nicely. Please give us air to breathe, we’re gasping here, we’re out of breathe; we need this to be a good year.

We’re deciding to trust you here, largely because we have to, please don’t betray us like last year did. For a lot of people we don’t have a lot of fight left, it is vital that you understand what you mean in those circumstances. This year means life or death for a lot of people, this year means the opportunity to stay or deportation, it means the right to love who they love or not. You, twenty-seventeen, mean a lot of things for a lot of people. I understand that this is a lot of responsibility, and I’m sorry that what came before you put you in this position. We don’t like it much either. Good luck, believe it or not although we are cautious, we are on your side. We want this to be a good thing. We’re all rooting for you.

Best and fondly,

Danielle

xoxo