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First person

New Year’s Resolution 

By January 2, 2023No Comments

Kate Demolder writes about being, breaking and beginning again. 


A recent time I am heartbroken; it is New Year’s Eve. I am 24, not nearly 25, haunted by the houses I’d let myself inhabit while mending a broken heart, trying still to tear down the walls I had not yet come by. Eight weeks earlier, after being let go from a job I didn’t love, my boyfriend fucked someone at his Christmas party. My life is full, I think, stripping my bed an hour before he is due over. Before he tells me. He will be hungover, I understand. Maybe I’ll be gentler than usual. 

Kate Demolder writes about being, breaking and beginning again. 

A recent time I am heartbroken; it is New Year’s Eve. I am 24, not nearly 25, haunted by the houses I’d let myself inhabit while mending a broken heart, trying still to tear down the walls I had not yet come by. Eight weeks earlier, after being let go from a job I didn’t love, my boyfriend fucked someone at his Christmas party. My life is full, I think, stripping my bed an hour before he is due over. Before he tells me . . .

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