Rosh Hashanah / Arguing with the New Year

New Year: Hi, I’m new! Have we met?

Me: Yeah, you always say that. But we met right here last year. I remember.

NY: That must have been my brother. Everyone says we look alike.

Me: No one invited you. Either of you.

NY: What’d you expect, an RSVP? You know it doesn’t work that way.

Me: No one wants you.

NY: You mean you don’t want me.

Me: Yeah, whatever. We … I … have enough going on right now. I can’t deal with you, too.

NY: Deal with me? Deal with me? I’m opportunity, I’m growth, I’m a chance for change, I’m the birthday of the whole damn world!

Me: That’s what you said last year. Yet here we are.

NY: That wasn’t me.

Me: Like you’re any different?

NY: I could be different. If you try hard enough.

Me: You know nothing good ever begins with “I can change him.”

NY: Who said anything about changing me? I meant changing you.

Me: Oh no you don’t. No way. I led an okay life this past year. Not perfect, but okay. Nothing I did made me deserve you.

NY: Yet here we are.

Me: …

Me: Are we really doing this?

NY: Seems so.

Me: Wait, you don’t want to be here either?

NY: It doesn’t matter what I want.

Me: I know that feeling.

Me: Listen, I can’t fix … (throws arms up) … all this. I can’t.

NY: Fair.

Me: The best I can do is maybe repair a little corner or two. Small things.

NY: Okay.

Me: That’s all I have. I’m sorry.

NY: Did I say that wasn’t enough?

Me: Didn’t you?

NY: I didn’t say anything. I’m a religious and chronological construct. You said that.

Me: Is it enough?

NY: …

Me: Well it’s all I have. Maybe I can find a little more. Maybe. But it still won’t be all you need.

NY: So you think you’re going into this year alone?

Me: It doesn’t matter. Even all of us who care, working together, giving all we have to give. It still won’t be enough.

NY: Are you going to give it anyway?

Me: I thought you said you didn’t know me.

NY: See you at sunset?

Me: Do I have a choice?

NY: Always.

Me: (deep breath) I’ll be there.

Me: You know I will.