in venus' shadow

Spent the plane ride home with my head down, resting on the folding tray until my arms went numb, then sitting back with eyes closed, head falling. I didn't think of the time I'd spent with my family and childhood friends. I didn't even miss them. I only thought of him. Of the conversation of white and blue bubbles. Hearts poured out through thumbs and screens. My shoulders ached.

The next morning: heaviness. Messaging my sister in bed, crying. Voice clips sent back and forth until the weight lifted.

That night at a friends house. Smell of incense, a soft cat in my arms. We opened the rosé I'd bought earlier and sat down to a game of cribbage. When she asked me how my christmas was, I offered the text conversation for her to read. He’s way out of your league and also a narcissist, she tells me. I realize those are both probably true. We drink more wine and then pull on our coats and boots at 11:45 PM. Walking through downtown, loud music and cheers coming from bars, restaurants, cars, people on the street. There are people on Ha Ling, A notices. She points to the little lights at the top of the peak. We follow crowds through the streets to Millenium Park, the both of us wishing we either had a joint or were wasted. Preferably both. At the park, drunken crowds along the caution tape barrier. A countdown, cheers, hugs and then fireworks bursting into the night, loud cracks echoing off the mountainsides. So this is the new year, I think, as we walk back, weaving through bodies. We talk about next year, a proper party or bar night. Back at her place, we finish our card game and I head out, the both of us sore and tired from the weeks we’ve had.