reverie

Let's just pretend that it's New Year's Eve and we're on a mission to get drunk, because that's just the thing that we always do otherwise you wouldn't want me around, how poignant.

It would be even better if we are somewhere we can wear winter clothes on, those gorgeous long black winter coats, with patterned scarf on our necks as we go from one hip party to the next, saying hi to the beautiful people we meet, air kiss gleefully while holding martini glasses on our right hands, how swank.

Somewhere before midnight we go to the rooftop. It's not snowing but it's icy cold and the wind makes my skin prickles and you put your arms around my shoulder trying to keep me warm and even though I can stand the cold I pretend to shiver because I like having your arms around my shoulders that way, how sad.

We hear the countdown from somewhere below us and as the clock turns 12 you plant a kiss on my lips and I would close my eyes and savor your kiss like it was the best thing in the world, how grim.

And sometimes after that we head downstairs and mingle with people who find us mighty interesting and I charm them with my wit and you look at me and wish you could have me forever, intoxicated or not, how swell.

At some point everyone gets really wasted and no coherent conversation could be made and you take my hand and we don on our fabulous coats and walk on the deserted street, listening to the muffled sound of parties from the buildings around us, the sound that is the testament of good life, how divine.

And it's back to my place and you sit on my couch with your feet up. You peer at the blinds, trying to catch the first sun ray of the new year when I come holding two mugs of steaming hot cocoa. You look up with a playful smile on your childlike eyes and take your mug and sip it with delight and I sit in front of you, thinking of excuses to make you prolong your stay, how somber.

Epilogue

Even in the world of make-believe where I can have all the happy endings in the world, I am unable to write one. Star-crossed lovers we would always be, sadly, in every reality.

How bizarre.