12.31.25: New Year's Eve
New Year's Eve is the most pressure you can put on a night. You're supposed to be somewhere perfect, with the right people, feeling something meaningful when the clock hits twelve. Instead, you're usually in a crowded room, holding a drink you didn't want, kissing someone or no one, wondering if this is it. The countdown happens and then it's just another minute. Everyone cheers. Fireworks go off. You feel exactly the same as you did thirty seconds ago. I've stopped making plans. Now I just let the night be ordinary. Somehow that feels more honest than forcing magic.
