Happy New Year?
I’ve never been keen on celebrating the New Year. Wait…that’s not entirely true. The young boy enjoyed New Year’s Eve. We, as a family, basked in a certain glow as we waited in the New Year. It was a quiet, patient, hopeful waiting…culminating in expressions of warm affection.
It was the pubescent adolescent who became so jaded with the whole New Year “thing.” I’ve already mentioned that I had fallen madly in love with a lass with a predilection for saying good-bye shortly after Christmas. I spent more than a few New Year’s Eves wandering city streets in frigid weather with some incarnation of alcohol in a paper sack for company. There was the winter I suffered frostbite on both ears for, you see, only a pubescent adolescent would venture forth into the ice and snow and sub-zero temperatures wearing only jeans, shirt, black leather jacket and thin leather shoes (cold as ice…but stylish). No hat or gloves, either (amazing, isn’t it, the stupidity of the pubescent adolescent?). I can still vividly recall that frostbitten night. I can recall the night my “over-medicated” self leaned forward to accept a light for my cigarette only to witness my mane go up in flames. I can vaguely recall those nights I ventured downtown (same wardrobe…same brutal weather) to drunkenly greet midnight by kissing any otherwise unoccupied lips. Come the besotted dawn, not a single kiss could be recalled. Lips and kisses weren’t meant to be wasted in this way.
I tell you, my bad memories of New Year’s outweigh the good.
It feels different this year.
I was awake and alone at midnight (then again, I’m always awake and alone at midnight…). For the first time in decades, I waited for the New Year with true hope and anticipation. I already know that this new year will be better than the last…the last several. I already know that I have left the man I was behind, and I look forward to acquainting myself with who I’ve become. The past two years especially have reshaped my soul. I’ve yet to understand what that means. I only know that I am changed. I will come to discover who I am in the coming year...and (knock on wood)...years. I look forward to that. I look forward to leaving my cave and venturing into the sunlight again. I look forward to my new home(s), to open roads.
I know what it is I wish to do. I now wish to begin.
And for you, Dear Reader, my hope is that you, too, came to greet the New Year with hope and anticipation, certain in the belief that, come each sunrise, the days ahead will bring unexpected joys…perhaps even miracles.
It was the pubescent adolescent who became so jaded with the whole New Year “thing.” I’ve already mentioned that I had fallen madly in love with a lass with a predilection for saying good-bye shortly after Christmas. I spent more than a few New Year’s Eves wandering city streets in frigid weather with some incarnation of alcohol in a paper sack for company. There was the winter I suffered frostbite on both ears for, you see, only a pubescent adolescent would venture forth into the ice and snow and sub-zero temperatures wearing only jeans, shirt, black leather jacket and thin leather shoes (cold as ice…but stylish). No hat or gloves, either (amazing, isn’t it, the stupidity of the pubescent adolescent?). I can still vividly recall that frostbitten night. I can recall the night my “over-medicated” self leaned forward to accept a light for my cigarette only to witness my mane go up in flames. I can vaguely recall those nights I ventured downtown (same wardrobe…same brutal weather) to drunkenly greet midnight by kissing any otherwise unoccupied lips. Come the besotted dawn, not a single kiss could be recalled. Lips and kisses weren’t meant to be wasted in this way.
I tell you, my bad memories of New Year’s outweigh the good.
* * *
It feels different this year.
I was awake and alone at midnight (then again, I’m always awake and alone at midnight…). For the first time in decades, I waited for the New Year with true hope and anticipation. I already know that this new year will be better than the last…the last several. I already know that I have left the man I was behind, and I look forward to acquainting myself with who I’ve become. The past two years especially have reshaped my soul. I’ve yet to understand what that means. I only know that I am changed. I will come to discover who I am in the coming year...and (knock on wood)...years. I look forward to that. I look forward to leaving my cave and venturing into the sunlight again. I look forward to my new home(s), to open roads.
I know what it is I wish to do. I now wish to begin.
* * *
And for you, Dear Reader, my hope is that you, too, came to greet the New Year with hope and anticipation, certain in the belief that, come each sunrise, the days ahead will bring unexpected joys…perhaps even miracles.
* * *
* * *
posted by Jonas | 1/01/2007 04:07:00 PM
4 Comments:
Good for you, Jonas. Arise, good fellow, and face the world anew !
Thank you for your exhortation, Roads! Sometimes it's just not enough to kick one's self in the rear to get moving. We all need charmers to beguile us into loving life again!
I hope you enjoy the New Year thoroughly. I suspect you will.
Perhaps, we can emerge from our caves together to greet the sun.
How about we change that "Perhaps" to a "Let's emerge"...?
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