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Stamp it and turn the page

December—last page on the calendar, stamping me again like, “yeah, you made it, huh.” No one says “good job,” not even once, just deadlines left… yeah. Year-end settlement—my life’s calculation, receipts keep stacking, feelings in evaluation. Some lines still blank—love category, unchecked, but I held it down, that’s my proudest effect. Carry-over, carry-over—push it to next year’s plan, no refund coming, but I’m tougher as a man. Sign my name on the bottom line: “I’m fine,” yeah, I made it through—this year is mine. Started big—“this year I’m different,” I swore, first page of the planner? packed like a store. But reality hit: meeting, meeting, meeting, the conclusion’s always later, my stamina’s bleeding. Overtime turned into habit, sighs on the way home, joined a gym once—donation receipt, I’m known. Vacation days still there, but no day to use, weekends paid in sleep, Monday comes to abuse. Still, it ain’t all bad—I saved what I could, one savings plan to the end, kept my promise good. One book, one habit, the days I endured, even when I almost broke—I showed up, that’s sure. Year-end settlement—my life’s calculation, receipts keep stacking, feelings in evaluation. Some lines still blank—love category, unchecked, but I held it down, that’s my proudest effect. Carry-over, carry-over—push it to next year’s plan, no refund coming, but I’m tougher as a man. Sign my name on the bottom line: “I’m fine,” yeah, I made it through—this year is mine. Group chat’s alive, but the meetups are frozen, “Let’s hang soon” became the trend we’ve chosen. Friends I miss—everybody’s in a war, marriage, kids, job changes—time gets tore. I got excuses too, pressed down by my shift, and the “I should’ve called” sits quiet like a rift. Family’s always there, no questions, no tests, and I repay late—debt sitting on my chest. Love category? blank—checkbox never clicked, somewhere my future partner’s settling too, I bet. I still don’t got a “receipt” for romance in my hand, but rushing purchases? that’s how you pay a bigger tax. Travel was maps only, photos were somebody’s feed, hobbies I started… but quitting’s been my speed. Still, in the middle of that, I kept moving on— not perfect, but I never hit “stop,” I stayed strong. Next year—different for real, not just talk, three workouts a week, small promises I can walk. One trip domestic, one abroad, feet on the ground, meet more people, take better care of what I found. Blank lines aren’t shame— they mean there’s space left to fill, that’s the game. Year-end settlement—my life’s calculation, receipts keep stacking, feelings in evaluation. Some lines still blank—love category, unchecked, but I held it down, that’s my proudest effect. Carry-over, carry-over—push it to next year’s plan, no refund coming, but I’m tougher as a man. Sign my name on the bottom line: “we’ll be fine,” yeah, I made it through—this year is mine. This year’s me—right here, that’s it. Next year’s me… going further, bit by bit. Stamp it and turn the page, no drama— year-end settlement… done. -AI Generated