This New Year’s Eve was one for the baby books, more than little black books. I spent it with a friend, our kids and a few old fireworks. We convinced them it was midnight around 10:30 pm and went to bed, early.
I’m gloomy… as I tend to be anyway when I’m feeling disappointed and nostalgic. I’m content in a new way after washing my hands of the menfolk, and even packed some knitting in my bag for this traditionally rowdy holiday. I’m done with the highs and lows of dating and love. It just isn’t worth it anymore.
I miss last year, in the throes of infatuation with Incredicock, and not realizing I was days away from the text message that dissected my heart. I miss the me that didn’t care about the high cost of loving blindly. She was so much lighter, so much happier and so sure that it could actually be possible to fall in love again.
That girl vanished on January 3rd, never to be seen again.
But for that one night in January, she let herself really live in the moment, and it will forever outshine the rest of my new year celebrations. I can’t help but refer to that part of me in the third person because I can’t relate to her very well anymore.
I’m guarded these days, and don’t have much faith in love or even people for that matter. Everyone has their own agenda and the curse of being “too nice” is that I’m frequently asked to bear the brunt of other people having their way. I do so willingly, but it stings just the same. I just don’t share myself much anymore.
I miss being recklessly wanton, staring at the man who lit me on fire and enjoyed pouring gas on the flames any time it appeared they were dying down. I miss the heat of his skin, his infectious laughter and the grin that made my clothes spontaneously fall off.
Life is too fucking short to be lukewarm, and I’m chilly these days.
So I sat down and thought about last year, when things were warm and I was happy to embrace the constant smolder. I needed a reminder of why I can’t settle for anything less, and I’d written a few hundred words pointing back at me. I read them and called my Little Red firecracker, who silenced me.
R- Mama… can I be honest?
Me- When aren’t you?
R- I think you’re settling because you’re sad and lonely. You need to feel the way you did before or you’re just going to feel worse.
Me- I don’t know. I don’t like losing myself in another person.
R- So don’t lose?
It was a cold snowy night last year and I was rosy cheeked from the champagne I’d drunk getting ready to see him. Watching him drive up my driveway always made me pinch myself and that night was no exception. He walked up to the door with a smile and my heart flip-flopped. I’ve never had a more physical reaction to someone before and I wanted to kiss him in the worst way.
He smelled so good I was cross-eyed and trying to breathe through the ache he caused in my bones. It’s an entirely different thing to need someone as opposed to simply wanting them. I didn’t realize how much I loved him until it was too late. I never meant to, nor could I have stopped if I had.
I remember looking at the clock and being disappointed that it was midnight, wanting time to stand still so I could swim in the pleasure of his company. I was tipsy, he was grinning at me and the butterflies in my stomach were having a rave.
I leaned forward and kissed him. Inhaling the heady air around him that peppered my senses to the point I was speechless. Kissing those lips made my skin catch fire and my bones turn to jelly. I was knocked off my feet and breathless, with only one thing missing.
With no hesitation, clothes were left in our wake as he gave me what I wanted and needed most.
All that lightning and fire in two spectacular hands, the most beautiful mouth and the body I crave, endlessly.
It will forever be the best New Year’s Eve kiss and I missed it a lot this year- never mind those hours afterwards that I spent memorizing him.
Some years are scintillating and some suck… it’s just how things go in life.
Cheers, to a much better year with a much safer and more significantly protected heart. ❤️