Not that close and not that sad.

Just a few hours from now, a new year will begin with new resolutions that we often procrastinate on. But here's the thing - I wish you a very happy new year. As you grow older day by day, may your knowledge become more mature.

Things might be different this year. Maybe we weren't as familiar or close to each other after this year due to our circumstances and many other factors. However, I have always wanted to see you succeed. I am happy that we celebrated the year together, and I am happy to have spent that time with you.

Time has changed. From Random talks to daily meetups, we have come so far and I hope destiny does not bring us together again in another year or era because there is something to cherish that happens only once and then never again. We may miss each other for some days, months, or a year but not more than two or three. Wherever you are, I hope you are doing well, happy, and traveling across the world.

Here's a harsh but true truth about the upcoming year:

"I hope we will not be the same as before - not that close and not that sad."

Wishing you a very happy year in 2080.

Comments

So my wife’s going to a gala tonight — as her client’s “date.”

I’m 44 and my wife is 44. She works on an art advisory committee, so attending galas, events, and client meetings is part of her job. She often meets clients for coffee, lunch, or dinner, and I don’t always know the details and that’s completely normal because it’s part of her work. She’s always professional, transparent about her friendships, and I trust her judgment completely. Recently, she mentioned she’s going to a gala with a friend, S. He’s a wealthy client she met about a year ago, and they became friends professionally. She introduced me to him once, and he seems like a genuinely good person. He invited her as his “date” to this gala, and my wife said it’s fine. I did ask her though, if she’s actually going as a “date,” and she just laughed and said, “Date doesn’t always mean romantic.” She said it’s important for her she could get networking and meet new people. Then she smiled and said, “If I get into this gala next time, I won’t need to take that man with me, I’ll take you...

I accidentally started a fake relationship with my dentist’s nephew and now I have to bring him to my cousin’s wedding

I swear this isn’t as insane as it sounds. Or maybe it is. I don’t know anymore. So I had to get my wisdom teeth pulled last month. All four. It was horrible. I cried when they put the numbing stuff in. Not from pain, just vibes. The dentist was this sweet older guy, probably in his 60s, super gentle, gave dad energy. Anyway, after the whole thing I’m in the waiting room with a mouth full of gauze, looking like a bloated chipmunk and trying not to drool on myself. This guy walks in. Maybe 20-ish. Tall, curly hair, kind of goofy looking but in a hot way. He smiles at me and goes, “You look like you fought a squirrel and lost.” I flip him off. With love. Apparently he’s the dentist’s nephew. He was dropping off lunch or something, I wasn’t listening. I was trying to keep my face from leaking. He sits down and starts chatting with me while I wait for my ride. I don’t say much because again, gauze goblin. But I must’ve made an impression because later that night I get a message on Instagr...

The email I sent to the wrong address changed my life

I’d always rolled my eyes at the "happy accidents" people talked about online – until I became one of them. Earlier this year I was stuck at work on a Friday night trying to smooth over a client situation. I drafted a long, vulnerable email to my coworker, venting about the mistake I’d made and how burnt out I was, and hit send without double‑checking the address. A couple hours later, my phone buzzed with a reply from a woman I didn’t recognize. She lived in a different city and politely let me know I’d emailed the wrong person, but she also said my honesty resonated with her. She had been a nurse for 30 years and had just retired. Her words were warm and empathetic; she told me about the night shifts, the feeling of being invisible, and how she’d finally stepped away. Instead of brushing it off, I wrote back. What started as an apology turned into a conversation that unfolded over weeks. We traded stories about our families, our jobs and the things we regretted not doing. ...

Bimql chhetry.

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