Letters to my Ex

Letter 6

Dear ex,

Tonight is New Year's Eve. I'm afraid. Why? Because we first met at some senior's New Year's Eve party. You probably don't remember much because you were drunk. And when I mean drunk, I mean you were so drunk that you thought you could communicate with the duck in Central Park. I was asked by Matt if I could walk you back to your apartment and I agreed because he 'wanted to get it on with Stacey'. Eventually we made it back to your apartment without you falling in a pond or any broken bones.

You said your place was only twenty minutes away from the party. It took almost two hours...

When we finally reached your apartment, it was well past twelve a.m, and to make everything worse, I decided to wear heels to this party. I remember helping you stumble into your apartment and you almost knocked over your room mates fish tank.

I sat you down on the couch in your living room and grabbed you a water bottle out of your fridge because of how intoxicated you were and if it wasn't for me, the next morning you would've been lying all day in bed with a banger of a hangover. I passed you the glass and you laughed loudly because you thought that the glass of vodka I had given you tasted 'off'.

Your laugh. It was intoxicating to the human ears. It wasn't high pitched and it wasn't deep like other guys I've dated. Your one was like a drug. One hit and I wanted more already. I wanted you to laugh again and again.

I helped you take your shoes and socks off because you struggled so much that you rolled off the couch and almost split your head open on the coffee table. You laughed it off.

After you finally got comfy, you turned on your tv and started to watch some type of sport. You were one of the top players in our football team and of course you were the talk of the school. All the freshman girls couldn't stop talking about you and I couldn't blame them really, I mean, look at you. You're every girl's dream and their nightmare as well.

You have a jawline that could pass you as a Dolce and Gabbana model and a six pack that should be the face of Calvin Klein. Your blue eyes are so clear that they remind me of the shallow waters of a tropical island. So I guess when I was asked to take you home, I felt honored.

I almost ended up falling asleep in the arm chair and when I stood up to leave, you suddenly woke up from your sleep and stood up a bit too quickly that you almost went flying into the tv, luckily I was there to save you or you would've been going to the ER on New Years.

You asked me where I was going and I said I was going back to my apartment. After a few minutes of you just standing there staring at me, you finally asked what my name was. "Sydney." I replied and you flashed me a toothy grin.

I said goodnight as I clutched the doorknob and you stepped closer to me. Then out of the blue, you asked me if I have had my happy New Years kiss. I didn't because I was trying to persuade you to leave because you were too drunk and Matt was obviously so busy that he couldn't walk you back so I had agreed, missing out everything that a New Years party is about. The countdown and the kiss.

And then, when the city sounded peaceful and your eyes glittered like those tropical beaches, you took me by surprise and kissed me slowly and gently. I gasped at the sudden contact of your lips and my reaction was kissing you back.

I remember everything of that night. The way you slowly retreated and rested your forehead against mine, the smell of alcohol present and last but not least, how you whispered to me:

"Happy New Years, Sydney."