16 and 17, respectively. Most likely our first official date.
Lying on the floor in my attic bedroom, listening to Prince on my stereo rack in the glass case… Purple Rain, Controversy, For You… talking about whatever teenagers talk about when they’re falling in love and getting to know more about each other.
His brown hair was soft and long, mine was long and curly. Two pairs of brown eyes meeting shyly and intensely across the space between us on the floor.
My parents were downstairs watching TV. I guess they weren’t worried about the daughter two floors up alone with a boy in her bedroom. They didn’t have to be.
We may have had snacks and sodas, I don’t remember.
We may have also cuddled close on that floor, kissing and feeling all the butterflies and fireworks, and falling irrevocably in love.
We may have also had the TV on, watching but not watching Dick Clark and the ball eventually drop, signaling the time for him to go home, because he couldn’t stay.
I went to bed, aching for him in that way that teens in love do, and couldn’t fall sleep.
49 and 50, respectively. Our 9th New Year’s Eve together.
We sat at the table with grilled filet and baked potatoes, drinking a bottle of Wente Cab by candlelight, in an otherwise empty house.
He put on one of our MP3 lists, with Scandalous Prince. We talked about our families, those still with us and those who are not. We talked about all the dogs that came before Pi and Sabra, and how neither of us wants to love and lose another pet.
We talked about our plans for the future, airfare, and practical stuff like house renovations, and the next poker party.
His brown hair is short today. So is mine. Maybe his a bit thinner than it was in 1985, and shades of gray peeking through. My hair is a reflection of my original color; otherwise it would be heavily gray.
We sat on the couch and snuggled close and took selfies. I joked we should lie on the floor and make out; he said great idea, until we have to get up off the floor.
We watched Dark Matter on Netflix. The cousins in Oregon called and we had a lovely, long conversation.
We climbed into bed sometime near 11:30, and I fell asleep just 15 minutes before the ball dropped.
One thought on “New Year’s Eve, Then and Now”
This was so much fun to read. Thank you for writing this glimpse of intimacy.