All but one.

The end of twentyeleven. I've written letters to a handful of people. Telling them how much they have constitute my twentyeleven and how much I've appreciated them being in my life.

I gave all except one..

This year has been an exploration of many unknown feelings. Disappointment. Betrayal. Hurt. Pain. Despair. Bewilderment. Loneliness. Fear. Exploration. Worthlessness. And finally minute happiness.

I wish I could obliterate this year. 365 days passed by like this. 365 days wasted. 365 days older.

Here's to a new year. A new resolution. Build up walls. Hardened up. Focus on only medicine and nothing else. A good doctor is one who is numbed to emotions. No time for games, for anyone, for myself.