As I write this letter to myself (and all readers of The Hofstra Chronicle), I sit alone in my childhood bedroom, swallowed by distant memories of a version of myself that I’ve been longing for throughout the whole year.
There are tattered running bibs from my cross-country days stuck to the wall, childhood outfits that would cling tightly
to my skin now that I’ve grown into my adult body and favorite books of the past. Going through drawers brings a tear to my eye some days. It’s heart-wrenching how adolescence runs from you when you come face-to-face with the beginning of the real world in college.
Now that the year has begun to wind down, my everyday memo- ries are flooded with the nuances of 2024. Some are shattered desires and hateful memories and some are full of warmth and comforting bliss that reel me back towards my beloved past self. I can confidently say that 2024 was the most emotionally tumultuous year for me thus far and was a year that force-fed me lessons on life. I’ve found that I hold on to words and moments like children hold their mothers’ hands – tightly and with love, never letting it slip away. These are some special memories that I keep warm in my palm.
I started my year in Los Angeles, California, surrounded by dear friends. For every moment I experienced, the shadows of my subconscious plagued the soul of that trip. I wish I had been more present and willing to live life exceptionally.
I find myself longing for the warm wraps of the California sunlight around me but wishing to expel the negative screeches of self-doubt that pinned me down and taped my mouth shut. It was thrilling to find out that I loved Los Angeles and equally thrilling to know how much power my mind had and how I would never know the Aidan of the past. Thank you, Los Angeles, for teaching me strength and the dichotomy of emotion.
I spent time in the haven of Cape Cod, Massachusetts, with my rocks, Joe and Sascha, two consistent respites in a treach- erous path for me. As we sat on the golden beaches of Nauset Sound, I wondered if they knew I was thinking of my flow of tears during their final episode of “Thursday Nite Live.” I feared our friendship would fizzle like the waves crashing into the beach before us, but instead, it stayed vigilant like a flame in the dead of winter. Thank you, Joe and Sascha, for teaching me that love can be full if you’re willing to tend to it.
My best friend Frankie moved into my house. As my lonely moments consumed my most earnest smiles, I thought I would be always searching for stars in the dark after moments like losing my dream internship, seeing some of my family for the last time in Portugal and losing another man who I thought might finally be the breakthrough.
But then, Frankie came along. Life sends you blessings wrapped in unconventional things and brings sources of un- adulterated joy to your doorstep when you least expect it. Thank you, Frankie, for igniting the happiness in me that I thought had left forever and reminding me just how joyous friendship can be when it’s real.
To anyone who crossed my path, I hope you’re still holding the piece of my heart that I gave to you. Whether we were a candle in the wind that blew out, an exhilarating dive into a new ocean of possibilities or an old reliable that still works just like it should, just know that you taught me something I did not know and am grateful to possess now. I let the memories of all of you blend my mind into something grander than it has ever been, and be- cause of that, I will sleep happy for the nights to come.
Despite the happy memories that shaped my head and heart, I also would like to thank all the sadness, tears and depression that troubled me in moments of strife.
Without moments of anger, hurting the ones I love and moments of bleakness staring into an infinite sky, I would not be able to plant myself in rich soil and let my flowers bloom. A rainstorm must come through to create grasses of emerald green, and the invigorating smell of pet- richor afterward makes your now sopping-wet hair worth it.
I leave this letter to 2024 with the idea I have fixated on these last few days. If you are reading this, please know that you are far from perfect, and always will be far from it. As I am writing these words, I am still struggling with that concept, failing to conceptualize the idea of imperfection completely in my mind.
Please know that your worst moments are what humanize you and make your story interest- ing and why your story is still being written. If everything went according to plan, it would be so devastating when it eventually does not. The shit you talked about someone that they found out about, that financial decision that had repercussions, that fit you threw over something not worth your precious energy have all turned your clay body into sculpture.
There is no crowning without a journey backing it, and once you are beside greatness and diamonds line your head, you will be able to smile earnestly, and not because it is expectated of you.
