Wavelength

50

Lillian

“December’s an idea,”

I say to Sasha.

“It’s a celebration, but melancholy. We all party and pretend to know the future and sink ourselves in love to feel alright. But there’s always a moment on the thirty-first when you feel alone, no matter what. The countdown on New Year’s Eve hides the human condition.”

“Loneliness?”

Sasha suggests.

“That we all die. So yes, maybe loneliness.”

I feel my breathing tightening just talking about it. I want to reach out for Sasha, so I quickly grab for the way I can be closest to them.

“Want to sing it with me?” I ask.