The end of what is a new year

Hi there blog. Ur probably wondering if I died, but I didn't. Prove, I'm here writing.
New year came a month or so ago, but I did not express my thoughts on the manner.
It does not matter, really. I'm almost of age, getting older, doing the things that meek humans do. This year was plain dull and not exciting, and I may have being fighting the leftover wires of depression, but I guess I accomplished a new sense of maturity. It's definetly not a year that I'll recall with vigorous effort, but it is nonetheless a year of my life. Id like to reciprocate next year, by doing everything humanly possible for me to enjoy my last year here.
You know my deep desire is to leave, but at the same time, I want my final days here to be enjoyable. I promise myself an year of adventure to follow, and accomplishing something I haven't before. As the end of year approaches, summer will come and it shall pass too. Sometimes there's a reminiscent of loneliness, of needing something to full fill this..void. But I realise I need time to rediscover my individuality and my persona, and despite my belief in living life everyday, youth is still predominant and I still have time on my side to live everything I ever wanted to. Like a bird that flies whenever it desires to, so will I.
Gay, the cheesiness.

She settled the kneedle in her vein, feeling the euphoric freedom that only those chemicals could provide her with. She closed her eyes, feeling the mental journey of sinking lower. She could stop any time, any moment.
And she did, once, she did.
When she met him.
The drugs addication fated out and was replaced with him. Everything was him. Life, air, earth was him. She needed him, every single core of her body did. It wasn't love, it was survival at its basic strive. Her mind relied on his presence, on his acceptance. Of him nodding at him, of him moving and acknowledging her. Whenever he talked to her, she felt that much that her need was sated.