Most people look toward the future on New Year’s Eve, celebrating and making resolutions for the next year, but I treat New Year’s Eve like it’s a funeral- a very unorthodox funeral with fireworks. It’s the day I bury the past. It’s the day I bury all of the things that never came into fruition. It’s the day I bury all my unmet expectations from the past year. It’s also the day Nicholas Sparks was born, but we won’t get into that.

New Year’s Eve is my favorite holiday. In my eyes, it triumphs over holiday goliaths like Guy Fawkes Night, Thanksgiving, and if I may be so bold, Yuletide. New Year’s Eve is the perfect day to get your priorities in order, which are working on your beach bod, working on your beach bod, and working on your beach bod. On a more serious note, it’s an annual opportunity for a second chance. It’s incredibly stress-relieving to start the year anew. Of course, I realize I’m romanticizing the holiday a little too much. I know that a blank canvas doesn’t truly exist; after all, a calendar day cannot simply erase past mistakes. Your current problems do not cease to exist just because Earth reaches a certain point in its orbit around the Sun.

Let's expand on this train of thought. In addition to dealing with past problems that refuse to disappear, it’s likely that new problems and obstacles will enter your life. It’s likely that the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion will continue its miserable march well into 2016 and possibly forever. Before you start your downward spiral towards sad face emoji's and Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream, hear me out.

I think you’ll never be able to truly escape your past mistakes; you’ll never be able to outrun all the problems in your life that are inherent and unique to you. I also think that’s okay. Your flaws, problems, and mistakes are a part of your life, but they don’t define your life. New Year’s Eve is an annual reminder that I’m not perfect and that’s okay. It's a reminder that even though my problems haven't disappear they still don't own me.

Most people look toward the future on New Year’s Eve. Why wouldn’t they? The past is buried away to the best of your ability, and the future is alive, warm, and inviting. Tomorrow, with all its potential possibilities, will never go extinct.