Countdown: An Invitation.

Photo Credit: Lee Xi Wen

I want to count down the New Year with you. 

I want to go obscenely early to said shopping mall/city center just so that we can get the best parking spot. 

I want to have a hurried, forgettable dinner or get something to go so we can be among the first at the site of the fireworks. 

I want to watch performances by local bands and artists no one’s heard about. I want to laugh at how bad they are at stalling, with you. 

I want to complain to you about how this is taking way too long, that surely the event organizers are following a different time zone. I want to whine about it being too hot, too stuffy. 

I want to be unlady-like and not socially acceptable when they start the countdown. I want to scream out those numbers, with you. 

And at the stroke of midnight, with the background noise of fireworks and other revelers; I want to stand on my tip toes and kiss you. And to say, “Happy New Year”, “I Love You”.

And laugh at how cliche that whole act was.

I want to, in the midst of balloons, glitters and silly strings; feel your arms around me, shielding me from strangers and chemically-laced sprays. 

I want to, at the end of it all, realized that over time I would forget the band, the dinner, the fireworks. 

But I would always remember  how with your arms around me, you’d smile and said, “I am getting my ass groped by strangers, baby. But I love you too”. 

Please say yes. 

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