New Years Kiss

The basement floor is freezing but my twenty-five dollar black leather pumps were killing me so I had no choice but to go barefoot. It’s crowded, dark and the walls luminance from glow sticks broken and used to paint inappropriate patterns. We’ve been dancing for hours, sweat drips constantly from our brows and our throats are sore from yelling over the stereo. But for half an hour we silence the blaring techno music and become fascinated by the glow of the oversized television. Time Square is more tightly packed than we are. We can’t turn away for a second or we will risk missing the final coverage of the concluding minutes of 2006. 2007 promises to be an exciting year. We will graduate and go on to college and learn what it truly means to start over again.
The ball lights up and begins its descent. Excitement smothers the smoke filled-air all around as we begin to count down the last ten seconds of the year, each of us trying to outdo the other while basking in the glory of the voices next to us. The numbers two, zero, zero and seven light up in multi-colored glory. We scream in celebration and jump in ecstasy. Friends hug, couples kiss and we can hear the celebration booming from upstairs. My boyfriend and I turn to each other, glowing in radiant happiness. We share our first New Year’s kiss. And for a moment there is a limbo between the old year and the new. There is a silent peace and comfort. It is the first of many moments that time will stop.  And this is when I knew.