The soft spots
This is the time of the year when we look back and remember what we expected the year to be and compare to what it has become as its days went by. I do remember how it started. The best moment was not at midnight though, when the spirits were high with euphoria and hope. It was in the morning, as I was sitting alone in the porch outside, smoking and watching the pouring rain. There was an endless melancholy inside my chest, a sadness that I couldn't help feeling - but at the same time I felt at peace. I didn't know what the year would bring me. I knew back then that I was about to start something new, which thrilled me. I also knew that I was about to face my past and see what would become of it. And besides that there was nothing else: just me, my cigarrettes, my beer and the rain. This year will end differentely. Some things have changed already, and I know I'll feel them in ways I could never anticipate. There goes a long distance between what I made everyone think that I feel and what I feel for real. That is a matter of weaknesses though. We all have our soft spots. And we all hope that they never become visible to others.