Perhaps because there's no other month comes after December for the on-going year; that December will wrap everything up; the joy, the sorrow, the finding, the losing, the ups, the downs, and they will become memories soon. Gone like a watercourse, flowing; like a wind, blowing; never coming back.
Saying goodbye is not my strength. With tears or without, no one can’t tell the difference. I just carry this unidentified feeling through the December, echoed in the heart.