I usually don't do holiday stuff, but this ran through my mind more than once, so here it goes.
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"Five minutes to midnight!"
The people were milling around in the living room of the Dayton House, the former home of a millionaire department store owner now turned historical landmark. A friend of mine rented it out for their New Year's Eve party. It was a "black, white, or silver formal", so I spent twenty minutes trying to find something acceptable to wear. The party started around six o'clock, so everyone had been there for a while, drinking champagne, eating hors d'oeuvres, and mingling with others. Everyone, that is, except me.
I've never been good at social functions. I never know what to say to people. They tell me to be myself, but Myself would rather spend the evening alone, watching the ball drop on television. I try to be sociable, but it always seems to go wrong. I had my eye on this lovely young woman for most of the night, but I was too scared to go talk to her. Instead, I held a few awkward conversations with a few different groups of people, drank a little too much champagne, and told myself that I was going home at midnight.
And here it was, five minutes until I could finally go home. I had been sitting by myself for most of the evening, which suited me just fine. A few passing greetings were exchanged, and I decided to get ready to go home. I had one final glass of champagne and another cheese cube, went to the bathroom, then made my way to the door.
"One minute to midnight!"
I heard the call come from the living room, and figured I could at least stay until they rang in the new year.
"Thirty seconds!"
I settled myself into a corner and watched rushed near the clock. I slowly noticed people coupling up, and realized that my loneliness would soon become painfully apparent.
"Ten... nine... eight..."
The countdown started. The couples were getting excited. I hated them for it. I needed another drink.
"Seven... six... five..."
The moment of truth. Hands were holding hands, arms were wrapped around waists, and I was getting a cigarette ready to smoke once I got outside.
"Four... three... two..."
I got up, put the cigarette in my mouth, and headed toward the door.
"One... Happy New Year!"
Party favor noises and cheers filled the air. I looked back and saw the couples do their midnight kisses. "Happy fucking new year," I mumbled and walked out the door.
As I lit up, I heard the door slam shut behind me. I turned and saw a girl I had been admiring for a while run toward me, her plain white dress trailing through the snow and mud.
"Hey!" she shouted. "Don't go!"
Before I could say anything, she knocked the cigarette out of my mouth, threw her arms around me, and smashed her lips into mine. It was a bizarre feeling; her kiss didn't feel like a kiss of necessity, like she felt sorry for me since I was alone most of the evening. Her kiss felt like, for that moment, we were two lovers without a care in the world, and everything was fine between us, and we would be together forever.
And in a moment, she was gone, running back to the house for the rest of the party.
I looked to where my cigarette fell, and decided that it would be too wet to continue smoking. I glanced up as the door to the house slammed shut, and looked back to the cigarette, it's glowing orange tip being extinguished before i could stamp it out.
I sighed. I've never been much for symbols, but the cigarette had an eerie foreshadowing quality that I just couldn't ignore. Slowly, I got in my car, cursed the new year, and drove home.
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