The New Year's Problem

The past two New Year's Eves have been pretty hard on me.

12-31-09 I was in New Zealand.  You think, What in the hell could be bad about that, loser? Well, that is what this blog post is about. Hold your horses, asshole.  12-31-09 was the first New Year's Eve I had been away from Kyle since 12-31-99. It was a doozie.  I laid in a hotel room in Auckland and cried quietly in bed. Eventually, I fell asleep.

Back story.

01-01-00 I was in Austin.  I was 16 and it was the first day Kyle ever told me he loved me.  We had been dating for 3 months to the date.  We proceeded to spend every New Year's Eve together for the next decade.  Sometimes we would go to parties. Sometimes we would stay home and have sex into the new year.  My superstition says if I'm doing a thing when the new year comes, I will be doing that thing a lot throughout the year. Obviously, there was no argument from Kyle.

12-31-10 I was in Austin.  I was also sad and alone.  I left a party full of friends to go home to bed and go to sleep.  I sure did a lot of that this year.  Maybe my superstition was right.

This year I need friends.  I need fireworks.  I need alcohol.  I need fun into the early morning.  I need to not be sad.  I can't be sad anymore next year.  I'm putting my fucking foot down!