Land

At last, you begin to catch up with yourself. See your reflection along the river and remember the sound of your shoes against the pavement. Sleep for hours, days, strange dreamed sleeps and spend hours awake before dawn for no apparent reason. Everything aches, except you feel untouchable, what a strange way to barrage into a new year, you find you do not mind it. She writes from across the ocean and all I can reply is I'm happy. It is simple, when it is.

I bought a light therapy lamp at last, sit staring straight into it in the mornings, singing sighs of relief with every breath. January sits like a canonball at the very edge of the precipice, as though still unsure which direction to go, but a weapon of destruction when it does.

Strap yourself in. There's nothing to do but follow.