In the language of last year

Welcome to a new morning of a new year. I feel somewhat obliged to write a year in review, and at least pay homage to the words of days past. But with so much transpiring, and no conventional means to trap those moments, there will be no "Best and Worst of 2005" here. Instead, I shall focus on the recent past, the present, and at some juncture, decide on a resolution for 2006.

After turning down not one, but two offers to spend New Year's in New York, I found myself sitting in my living room waiting for someone who would neither show, nor come to his senses. Who would leave me waiting on New Year's Eve, you ask? I think we all know the answer to that. But we mustn't dwell. While strolling through the grocery store in search of 100% Cran Grape Juice, visions of teen queen movies played in my head--girls sitting, waiting in carefully planned ensembles for prom dates who would never arrive. Then I had a revelation: A new year provides us with more than an opportunity to get belligerently drunk sans guilt. There is no better time than a new year to leave the old behind.

As all good things must come to an end, whatever bizarre antagonism that existed between The letter S and The letter L is over. I won't labor over the details of my decision, or his complete apathy towards it. I will say, however, that there is a lot I will miss. I will miss having an equal. And as I rang in the New Year in true hussy form, I thought of him fondly. In the language of last year, his words were enough. But as the words of this year search for their voice, I no longer find comfort in empty promises.