Can't. Effing. Deal.

In the interest of accentuating the positive as we embark on an unusually tension-inducing new year, why not focus on a single ray of sweetness amid the gloom: For those who love the theater, this month will be a bonanza of emotional farewells and festive goodbyes in front of adoring audiences.No, the audiences flocking to final performances are often friends and family involved with the cast and creative team, along with rabid fans who have seen the show at least once, in some cases dozens of times.Live theater has a built-in bittersweetness born of its ephemeral nature. The magic is here and now, and then it’s gone forever — or at least until the next revival. (And remember, enthusiasm for a revival is often met with a cluck-clucking sound and an indulgent smile from those who were around for the first production.) That’s why being present at the moment when a work of achieved art passes into history can be inordinately moving, a reminder that beauty itself is mostly an evanescent thing in life.But it’s almost always thrilling, too, because the energy level at a final performance is usually roof-raising. Long runs can be wearying to actors — even those who consume only sensible amounts of sushi, unlike that unfortunate, mercury-riddled Jeremy Piven — but the valedictory atmosphere of a show’s last weeks brings out the best in most. This year, as you watch the lights dim on a performance that has meant something to you, that has made something happen in your heart or your head, you may see the real human being through the mask of the fictional characters a little more vividly. The chorus kid with the megawatt smile, the all-but-legendary musical diva with a devoted following, the up-and-coming young leading man — when the curtain falls they will all return to being actors anxiously awaiting their next engagement, at a scarily perilous time for everybody. So keep clapping, please, and a “Bravo!” or two would surely be appreciated.

For once, New York Times, I love you.