� on the scale � 2002-12-31 � 12:00 a.m. �
I remember a new year where I was a string hanging from a boy's arm... Dawled in satin, silk, and lace... my face painted like porecline... and my lips moulded happy to suit him.
It wasn't all that bad I guess... free drinks... and back then, that's all I needed to numb it anyway.
And, I rememeber the therapy that taught me tomorrow night is just another night. That I needn't dangle like crystal tear drops off a sleeve. I needn't feel like that's all I am worth... to be something for someone else. For one night... to be kissed.
I rememeber the New Year where I made no plans but to babysit... and I sat up at the dawn of the year before me and kissed the sweet cheek of the little one sleeping on my chest.... I was her first new year's hug on her first New year... She rubbed her tiny palm on mine... and again with the break of the ball in Time Square, we were asleep. She won't remember it... and I'll never forget it.
I remember the forth coming of the millennium as most of us celebrated and my best friend and I bought a case of cheap beer and bad wine coolers... sat in her basement - somewhere Townships - and watched Thor's light show in Calgary on TV. Even if he wasn't moving spot lights... we were having fun pretending he was doing it for us... and we were frankly, too drunk to really care.... we laughed a lot... we always do.
And I guess I've grown up and out of partying... I get this crooked grin of amusement just thinking about people who waste their life night after night and week after week... doing the same old thing in a dodgy club... when they could, after all be living... in a better.... relaxed atmosphere among truest of friends.
Standing on both sides of the scale... I've learned... and am learning with every new turn that there really is no significance to this one date change... nothing on the day after will be any different than it ever has been... nothing will change by the force of a year turning new... Nothing worth grieveing and definitely nothing worth celebrating. I guess it's the realist's way of seeing it.
A very wise man once told me that most of life is lost in commercialism... everything we call tradition is just hype... and it took me a few new years eves at home, to realize he was right... to realize that a new year... if it has to mean anything more... means most under the sheets, in the arms of the man you love most...
That's where you'll find me.
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