My New Year's Kiss — Memoir Vignette
It was the last night of the year, and I would have never imagined it would be like it was. The plan was going to the bar we liked and partying until the new year with laughs and drinks. A hug from my friends and a wish for the new year to be full of success—but there was more, something I wouldn't have expected.
The tall, American man with blue eyes looked my way. The place was crowded, not much room to move, no corner to sit and talk—I guess it worked to our benefit. Our bodies were close. I could smell his perfume; it was like leather, wood, and rum—strong and tall, powerful and intoxicating all at once. I could see every detail in his eyes, how deep they were, how many secrets they held.
I was daydreaming about his lips, feeling their warmth, imagining how they would write poems on my skin, catch every breath, bite all my moans. The clock was ticking, and the new year was minutes away. If this was any other night, we would have already been in a room, just the two of us, devouring our bodies and souls. But that night, we wanted to wait until midnight.
The final countdown started, and we were like magnets.
10… we locked eyes.
9… 8… I gave him a smile.
7… 6… 5… he pulled me to him, and we couldn’t be any closer.
4… 3… 2… I was about to lose my mind…
1… Our lips touched, and it might have been the adrenaline, the drinks I had before, or just the rush of the night, but the whole world stopped.
It felt like the movies, when the characters kiss and everything stops but them. Our kiss was soft, slow, and left me wanting more. The kiss lingered, soft and hungry all at once, like we were savoring the start of something neither of us wanted to end. The room erupted into cheers, fireworks bursting in the distance as the clock struck midnight, but all I could feel was him. His hands rested on my waist, grounding me in a moment that felt too surreal to be real.
When we finally pulled back, his blue eyes locked with mine again, as if asking, Is this real for you too? My heart raced, and I couldn’t help but laugh—partly at the absurdity of finding someone like him in the chaos of that Shanghai bar, and partly because I didn’t know what else to do.
He grinned, a lopsided, boyish smile that made me feel both giddy and weak at the knees. “Happy New Year,” he said, his voice low and warm, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Happy New Year,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
We stayed close, pressed together, as the crowd around us began to settle. Strangers hugged, and our friends came to sight, perhaps just to see our silly faces full of adrenaline and blush, but we didn’t move. His thumb traced a lazy circle against my hip, and I wondered how this man, this complete stranger, had turned my world upside down in just minutes.
“What now?” I asked, half-joking, half-terrified of his answer.
He tilted his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners like he already knew what I was thinking. “Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to get some fresh air, but...” He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending goosebumps down my arms. “…I think I’d rather stay right here with you.”
It was like he’d read my mind. The bar didn’t matter. The noise didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way he made me feel—like the year ahead wasn’t just another blank slate, but one already written with promises of moments like this.
We couldn't get enough from each other, we needed more, and by the destiny, luck or whatever you want to call it, it turned out we were both staying at the same hotel just a couples blocks away…
That made me feel excited, because I knew we could just dish our friends, to continue the kiss and use all the rush from the new year to devour our minds and souls, to deepen the kiss, to let the clothes that was on our way to ended up decorating the floor like the confetti did at the bar at the struck of midnight, to continue this perfect fantasy, this movie like moment until the sun rise, and we both had to go back to our smaller cities, to continue our lives.
On the other side the reality struck, it made me realize we might not see each other again, because none of us was living in that big city, we were there just for one night, that there was not going to be a place for the other to came back to.
And life isn’t a movie, right? There’s always that voice in the back of your head telling you not to get carried away.
Yet, as he held me, his gaze steady and his touch impossibly gentle, I couldn’t but promise myself to enjoy the rest of the night, to kiss him like we were lovers, and it was our final goodbye, to feel him, touch him, love him, and let the lust blind my mind and carved his name deep my soul.
When the morning arose, there was nothing else to say. We had run out of praises the night before when we let the heat burn our souls and that room filled with the echoes of passion.
I never saw him again. We didn’t exchange numbers or last names, and it felt poetic, in a way, to leave it at that. What had started as a promising new year, bursting with possibility, ended up being 2020—a year that turned the world upside down in a way none of us could have predicted.
Sometimes I wonder if he ever thinks about that night, the kiss that felt like magic, and the fleeting promise of something more. But then again, maybe some moments are meant to remain untouched, forever suspended in time, like fireworks frozen against the night sky.
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