And do you still remember all the time that has gone by?

Happy New Year. 2008 and another tradition broken. Instead of having aunts and uncles, cousins and various relations over to watch the ball drop, drink champagne or sparkling grape juice and have a hat-making competition from the various art materials around the house, I was the only one fully conscious in the last seconds of 2007. It would’ve been sad to carry the tradition alone, so instead I bundled up, took my flood lantern, a pair of swords (to appease my constant paranoia), and walked out to the only tree in our hayfield. I tucked myself in with the roots and called a friend on the cellphone. She told me when I had twenty seconds to go and we hung up. I tilted my head back and watched the veil of clouds chase across the few patches of deep blue and starlight, counting quietly to myself.

10… 9… 8…

What had I really accomplished this year? Nothing really to speak of. So I was a senior, no longer a junior, I had a niece… but really? Not much.

7… 6… 5…

Was anyone thinking about me while they were counting down? Three states away, was my maybe-boyfriend wishing he was talking to me, or was he too drunk to think of anything? What about the boys who’ve sworn their “undying love” to me? Was I on their minds? What about my beloved Fox, whom still I can’t be sure if I love? What was he thinking of? Even my best friend…. did I cross her thoughts? Did I cross anyone’s, tucked away in the dark beneath so big a tree in an empty field all alone?

4… 3… 2…

How would ‘08 be any different? I’d send off a book, I swore, as I have the last two years. I’d stop hesitating so much. That was a new one. When I felt like doing something rebellious or stupid, perhaps it would be best if I just did it. After all, if I’m going to take the time to regret things a year from now, they’d best be worth remembering. Even small rebellions. What about a New Year’s Wish? I want to be madly, passionately, and irresponsibly in love with someone, I decided. I want to think they’re the one for more than a couple weeks, when my logical side knows they’re not. I want to have to fight with myself to keep my hands off them, and I want them to lose the same battle. I want to even have the luxury of that battle.

1… 0

And just like that, ‘07 went away, and I hardly felt any different. I lay there a few minutes, talking to God, before deciding I wanted to sing to myself. It took me a little while. Thinking of an appropriate song was trickier than I thought. After a few more minutes listening to the fireworks, rebel yells, and howling dogs all around, my mind drifted to an old favorite RPG of mine, The Legend of Dragoon, and to its main theme. Things got oddly quiet when I started singing to myself. Even the fireworks seemed distant and I lay there, going numb one limb at a time and singing in another year.

Perhaps it’s not such a bad tradition to start. Now I think my seventeen-year-old liver and I will have some wine. As some tiny form of rebellion.