New Year’s Eve

It’s not so much
Not having the
“Significant other”
To celebrate the “holiday” with
It’s not the increasing strength
Of my conviction that
New Year’s Eve (as a party, not just a calendar date)
And Valentine’s Day (as anything)
Were both started
By some evil precursors
Of the bully girls in “Heathers”
(Only think grown-up, married “Heathers”)
When one said, “You know what would be great?
Let’s start some artificial
Where everyone is supposed to be
Coupled up
So that the ugly kids
And the unlucky ones
And the uncool ones
And the nerds and the shy and the fat and the widowed and the divorced
Can all feel
(The next line they shout together as they jump up and quick-hug with glee)

It’s not so much that my
Little girl just wanted to stay home this week
And play with her computer
And her dog
(And my friend at work who has a granddaughter that age says that’s what they’re like
Which makes me feel a little bit less like ending it all;
Not that I ever would, because, someday soon, I’ll see my little pumpkin pie again)
And I haven’t seen her
Since Christmas Eve.

It’s just the odd weirdness
Of the end of something
So I guess I can see it
The need, that is, to commemorate
This particular midnight
It’s like when your heart is broken
Over anything
You need to get lost
In booze
Or internet
(Which is dead because everyone else is coupled-up,
at fabulous New Year’s Eve parties,
and not on the ‘net entertaining the lonely,
and the bored,
like they’re supposed to)

It’s just that
This night is almost like
Driving past some summer festival
That you didn’t go to
And you see the trash
Glistening in the streetlights
And you feel some sort of loss
That something big
Or even not-so-big
But now it’s done
And everyone,
Even the ones who had fun there,
Everyone is looking at each other
And looking in the mirror
And wondering where it all went
And what could possibly come now
And it’s like being heartbroken
Over something vague
So the only thing to do
Is to drink just the right amount
Get lost in some entertainment
TV, Netflix, music,
Till the couch or the bed
Looks like a friend
Then you sleep

And tomorrow is just a normal day
And everything’s just okay
And life goes on.
It just does.
There’s nothing else.

This entry was posted in Humor, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to New Year’s Eve

  1. The Hook says:

    For once I’m speechless, my friend.
    I hope the new year brings healing and new beginnings.
    By the way, you have a gift.

  2. Oh, and Beth, to paraphrase Dorothy, I appreciate your kindness most of all.

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