Fifteen minutes ago you asked me to come to your New Year’s Eve party because you ‘didn’t want to be alone.’ I found it only slightly weird, seeing as how you hadn’t already invited me. The party is tonight, after all. I thought we’d been close enough that you’d have already invited me, but I was glad to be coming nonetheless.

To be completely honest with myself, I don’t want to be alone tonight, either. Almost every single New Year’s since I graduated college, I’ve had someone to kiss when the clock struck midnight. This is the first year where I’m single. I don’t expect a kiss out of tonight, but the companionship won’t hurt anything.

I show up to your house with wine, champagne, and beer, because I know you like to have options. And a store-bought charcuterie board because what the hell. I smile as you open the door for me.

“Brought you options and more options,” I say as I wiggle the bags in both my hands. If that isn’t a metaphor for something…