It's a new year.  One which Star hasn't seen, as vis_major was so astute as to point out.  This had been a thought on my mind as well and I have to confide that I had been dreading New Year's.

I didn't like the idea that I was going to be in a month, let alone a year, that Star hadn't seen.  She'd never had the chance to date something with a little 1/2007 or something.  I was going somewhere that she couldn't, and that just doesn't seem right. 

We hadn't really talked about it much.  We were too concerned with getting through the christmas fandango to discuss New Year's, but I do know that we would have gone to Sex Dwarf for the Eve bash.  All of her/our/now my friends would have been there, she loved the club like crazy and I liked to watch her dance. 

I hadn't thought about New Year's since Star died.  Actually, that's a lie. I'd silently dreaded New Year's and wanted desperately to think of anything else.  The ball dropping, the cheers, the kissing.  All of that was... well, it was painful. 

My plan was to hide out in my apartment.  Possibly play some video games.  Then likely crawl into bed and fine a way to miserable myself to sleep.  This is not how things worked out. 

Dan had fallen ill.  He had a throat/nose/fever thing that was quite terrible.  Barely talking, sweating and pale, Dan was obviously not going to make it to the bash.  Neil insisted that I take his ticket and go.  I waffled for a little bit, but then thought to myself that maybe this was right, that I sohuld be there. 

Not that Dan being sick was right, mind you.  I'm not happy that Dan is sick and am actually still quite worried. 

So I go over the Ravipinto/McGarry residence and pick up the ticket.  Then Neil and I get into what would become a two and a half hour long conversation about life, gaming, Star, and other bits of importance.  We were in his dining room, talking over plates of delicious brown rice and veggies, when Neil said something very smart.  Something to the effect of "If I don't learn from Star and live my life to the fullest , then it'll be like Star meant nothing."

It's funny how absolutely right that is, and how I hadn't thought of it.  If I just curl up in a box somewhere, then how is that a true legacy for Star?  What does that say about her and how important she is to me?  It hit me in an almost literal way.  I felt Neil's words in my stomach flipping around like butterflies and dragonflies. 

The two of us headed over to the club at around nine o'clock.  We ate food, we drank drinks, we had a toast to Star that involved drinking to her and then immediately dancing.  Upstairs was still covered in the stars that the DJ Robert Drake southstman had put up from the previous Sex Dwarf event in memory of Star.  I found myself grateful to at least be surrounded by her.  And it felt okay.  Not great, but okay. 

I did my favourite thing to do at clubs: stand off to the side on a riser and watch everyone dance.  I love feeling that energy, when everyone bumps and sways with the music and becomes a synchopated machine.  When it reaches a pitch, that's when I go in and start sweating and grinding.  And I learned how to dance at gay night clubs, so most of my dance moves involve the sweating and the grinding. 

As midnight hit I leaned against a wall, missing her, and shouted along with New Year's Day by U2. 

"All is quiet on New Year's Day,
A wolrd in white gets under way.
Oh, I want to be with, be with you night and day,
but nothing changes on New Year's Day."

Of course it had to be that song that greeted the new year. 

It was time for me to go, so I walked through the crowd and grabbed Josh and Jill/babyraven and Sam/mouserobot and hugged them and said happy new year.  I made my way to the stairs back down when I turned back to Sam and we smiled at each other.  Then he lifted up his hands and threw the devil horns.  I couldn't fight back my smile and put my horns out to him. 

On the way down the stairs I looked down, as I always do because I'm a down-walker, and I saw on the carpeting a little star sticker.  I picked it up and put it in my pocket. 

Once I got outside was when the bad stuff hit again.  The longing, the alone-ness, the pain.  Halfway to my car I was a sobbing wreck, a counterpoint to all of the drunken revelrie going on around me.  My car ride home was a discussion with her about how much I wanted that night to be about "us".  How we should be walking back to her apartment, drunk and laughing; we should be in her bed making love; we should be laying together laughing and telling stories; we should be holding each other and saying "i love you" until we both fall asleep. 

The first morning of 2007 I woke up alone in my own bed.  I didn't have a hang over, so at least that was right.