Some things I have abandoned as I’ve gotten older.

For example, I have pretty much phased white shirts out of my wardrobe. Any stain on the material is a thousand times more noticeable when you’re wearing a white shirt. Many story ideas that seemed like 24-karat gold when I first came up with them are now in some graveyard of the mind.

I think I can bury defining years as “good” or “bad” in the same yard.

In times past, I put years under good or bad umbrellas. 2013 will go down as one of the worst years of my life for the foreseeable future, and 2015 will go down as one of the best. But even those years had their ups and downs.

And I think that’s the best way to describe the year of 2018: ups and downs. Well, that, and long. When I think back on some of the things that happened this year—the Parkland and Santa Fe shootings, the death of XXXTentacion, the Brett Kavanaugh trial—it’s mind-boggling to me that it happened in the last 12 months.

I’ve heard that the older you get, the quicker time seems to pass. And, paradoxically, I’ve found that to be true. It doesn’t feel like that long ago I was kicking open my dorm room door and doing the whip in greeting. (Don’t ask; my friends and I are weird.) But at the same time, it feels like this year has moved in slow motion.

So, what to make of this year? Well, I said it already: it had its good, and it had its bad. After the preview of hell that was my first semester, interim and second semester was what I needed. I made some great memories with my friends and family, I met Alvin Plantinga, I learned that Calvin College is the place I want to be, and of course, I WENT TO SPAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!

But on the other hand, there were low points. There was the second preview of hell that was the weekend of my uncle’s wedding. (No offense to my uncle, but going to New York is not ideal when you have two papers and the paperwork for studying abroad due.) The summer saw the death of a family friend and some spectacularly bad time management causing me to shoot myself in the foot when it came to getting my driver’s license. It was an uphill battle actually getting to Spain, a struggle to learn the language when I got there, and my closest friend on the trip had to go home early–curse you, pneumonia.

I think the end of the year is the ultimate hill point. OK, death is probably the ultimate hill point, but the end of the year is the penultimate hill point. Behind us is this year, the fantastic moments, the godawful moments, and everything in-between. In front of us is 2019, our returning to our daily routines with nary an idea of what is to come. But the only place to go is forward.

So happy new year to one and all. May everyone have a great new year.