Random journal (9)

And now that this year is about to be over, how would I rate it? From "A" to "F", I'd definetely give him a "F". A big, red "F". Of failure. That would define it, this bloody year: failure. One after another, in a big, wicked chain of failures. And it started well, very well to be honest, in the best party I've ever had, with the best friends one can get. I've felt happy then, quite happy, and the only thing that clouded all that positivity was the fact that returning to Portugal would force me to something that I didn't know how to do it. I've failed at that, too, and ended up fucking up big time. And what for? What was the outcome? Wounds too deep to ever heal completely. The biggest waste of time of my rotting life.

Another word that would define it would be loss.

Some notes on this one:
i) It wouldn't be true for the whole year, even if I'm ending it in a weird way. At least this year brought me some good things - whether they will last or not remains yet to be seen.
ii) This one didn't started well. It started with me alone with everyone. Next time I decide I'll spend my new year's eve alone, I'll do it. And I mean it. I will just not tell anyone. They wouldn't understand, and they would pity me. And I can do well without someone else's pity.
iii) How I miss Denmark. What a shame I cannot go back there right now.
iv) I was wrong. Even though I fucked up big time, what followed was not a waste of time. It was something like the last taste of a long lost sweetness. And it helped me healing. It was totally worth it.