The golden year, long awaited, has passed.
London planned, prepared, delivered, enjoyed.
Now time moves on.
Sorry, 2013's not going to be as good. It might be good for you, there could be some marvellous personal moment or achievement unlocked. But overall, sorry, 2012's as good as it gets.
The world won't be staring in awe at Britain during 2013, not apart from the day Kate delivers. They'll be looking elsewhere, building up their own economies as ours fades a little further. We'll be in retreat, dismantling, inexorably cutting back, and good luck to you if you can stay afloat.
On some distant day in the future, when what's left of the BBC broadcasts its latest talking heads retrospective, they'll surely alight on 2012 as a perfect example of the glorious past. See the Duke of Edinburgh get wet on a boat, relive that golden Saturday in the Park, remember when getting your hip replaced was free. 2012 will stand alone as The Year To Go To, much as 1977 now represents and dominates its decade. Nobody'll give a damn about 2013, it'll be eternally overshadowed, that is unless something godawful strikes us over the next 365 days.
The year ahead's as yet unwritten, so maybe it won't turn out as drearily as I fear. But let's all make the most of 2013, as far as we're able. If nothing else, it'll surely be better than 2014.