30 minutes to midnight

It had gone from one of my most anticipated New Year's Eves in years to one of my most DREADED. With me waffling between doing nothing and doing... well, something.

New Year's Eve is one of those terrific holidays that really sticks single lonely people in the gut.

A lot of options fell apart as the deadline approached.

A quiet night spent locally with new parents Nick and Emma was relatively peaceful, right up until parenthood obligations conspired for me to get abandoned (again!) at just 30 minutes to midnight.

30 minutes.

A few desperate text messages. S.O.S.

A response. Some friendly faces on the Lower East Side.

Ran out. Hopped a cab to get downtown. Had to turn back around because I left my wallet at my apartment in my rush to get out. Never make it downtown in time. But I've gone too far to call it off.

Midnight strikes while I'm in transit. I watch the fireworks explode in the sky through the window of a cab. It is oddly... pitch perfect. Isolated from the world precisely at midnight, not forced to avert my eyes as couples lock lips. Just watching the city fly by, starbursts of fire blossoming in the cold dark night.