Member-only story
A New Year Without You
Will I ever be free?
The clock edges toward midnight, and I feel the loss ot it all, my heart hitting the bottom as easily as if it were the empty bulb of my glass. The last dregs of champagne were supposed to be my companion. But we all could have figured out how that would turn out.
I learned how to be a disappointment early on. You know that. You told me just the same every time you could, remember?
The party-goers revel in their soft debauchery. Two bodies mingle in a corner, limbs tangled together, and I roll my eyes before my attention snags on the band getting ready to key up another set of cover songs in the countdown to the midnight hour.
No one has eyes for me, but that’s fine. I wore my best sparkly dress — ’tis the season, as it goes — but I still go unnoticed. It’s fine. It’s fine. I’m fine.
But then I catch a glimpse of myself in one of the room’s decorative mirrors. My whole face seems doused in a shade of gloom. Even my make-up, which had been so decadent in the soft lighting of my apartment, appears no better than a smudged attempt at beautiful machinations. I wish I could just wipe away the picture, but reflections don’t lie.
All I can manage is to look away and try to banish the image of myself in my mind’s eye.
