Sunday, January 6, 2013

New Years and Kissing Part 1

Sometimes I'm a super romantic.
Like New Years Eve.
I'd be lying if I wasn't half-hoping that someone would kiss me.
You know, something like this:
It was kind of a lamo night, to start with.
None of my friends, besides the ones in the SYC, were there.
I was pretty much alone.

Don't get me wrong; it was fun to do all the stuff I do with the SYC, like raffle and handing out noisemakers.
But it wasn't really the same.

So, in my state of loneliness, I found myself wandering the dance floor like a loner about 5 minutes before midnight.
I felt pretty happy; the night had gone well and work hadn't ended badly, like it does some nights.
Suddenly one of my few friends that was there grabs my hand and pulls me to the middle of the dance floor, right underneath where we had strung the balloons a few hours before.

"You have to be right here at midnight," he said. "It's really cool to watch the balloons go over you."
I agreed, and spent the next five minutes just partying it up with the strangers from Highland around me.
(Yeah, we get people from Highland at our dances. Be jealous.)

So we get to that point with the countdown.
(Side note: At this point I have abandoned all hope for a New Years kiss, just like I do every year. It's not like I'm heartbroken or anything, I've just accepted that it's not going to happen)
Whoo hoo! Screaming and cheering and balloons cascading around my face. It's an adventure.
A warm, kind of moist-ish feeling on my cheek.
A kiss?
A cheek kiss at that, but a KISS?
Head spinning, cheeks flushing, all that nonsense.

I will forever be eternally grateful for my friend who kissed me at the stroke of midnight.
Even if it was a cheek kiss.
I'll explain more in part 2.

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