Thoughts of the year to come, choices, decisions, commitments, realizations... bright with promise of transformation... they chime in the wind outside in a private language.
I am Alice, on the edge of the hole, looking back one last time before the final leap. I fear the change to come and the creature I will be as much as always, with equal parts fear and anticipation.
Perhaps this seems a new form of transformation, of fire and not earth. This is more like the life of a star than an insect. This is no soft paper chrysalis but a bed of flame; it is all that will speed me on my way. I must change states; achieve a higher orbit. I must cease being an object at rest and become an object in motion. I must acquire enough force to overcome my own inertia.
I must burn until a new level of thing is fused, become hotter and brighter, some celestial phoenix... but right now, I hesitate, just briefly to contemplate.
Who will be left on the other side? Not that I fear the product of my change, but I question who will understand her? Who will really be her friend? Do I care, really? I can't not be this, can't not make this change.
When the universe speaks to you so clearly that it spins your head around so fast it makes you dizzy, how do you /not/ answer? Tertium non data, sine qua non.