Last New Year Ending

I like endings, but this isn’t how I want to begin.

It’s quiet tonight in this apartment in Brooklyn. Our upstairs neighbors have gone out, to celebrate I’m sure. The street is lined with cars, everyone parked and in for the night, or attending a party. My wife and I are dressed in our best pajamas. Our dear friend, Jessica, is too. We have been watching movies for days and seen everything available on On Demand and tonight we plan to do more of the same. More movies. Maybe that new John Singleton movie with the kid from Twilight who takes off his shirt. No parties. No bars. No fancy dinners or expensive cab rides into Manhattan. Just quiet and Thai food. Just us expressing this day with measured revelry.

We ordered from my favorite restaurant, Dice Thai Cuisine, and so I have one ear listening for a soft knock at the door. They deliver fast, so it could be anytime now. Thai food is fantasticly festive as well as fantastic for breakfast. Leftovers are king. First meal of the new year.

We have been in our apartment for the holiday season and haven’t left. This is not a bad thing. This is a real thing. Even though we had plans to travel to see family this year, we changed those plans to stay home and continue to take care of health issues instead. This year, like last, my wife’s still undiagnosed illness hit a nasty stretch, and in addition to that my cat’s cancer treatments conflicted with our projected time way. So we stayed home in this apartment instead, caring for our cat, caring for my wife, and watching average movies–many, many average movies.

The Thai food should be here any minute. Still no knock.

I see commercials about resolutions. New Year’s resolutions. The idea of a New Year’s Resolution is an interesting one and something everyone talks about at a higher frequency these days leading up to tonight. People often, I think, confuse a resolution with a wish. Wishing for weight loss and more money and a boyfriend and a car and a job and on and on. A resolution is difficult because it takes hard work. It takes a professional commitment. A wish is a lazy, mystic thought. I don’t have more to say on the matter, and only mention it because it’s what is on my mind at this moment because it’s in-between scenes of a movie. The commercial ends.

I like endings and this day is the most reliable of all ending. Happens every year. Endings are everywhere and happen to everything. They are small and large and all sizes in-between. Endings can be happy things too, not just sad, emo, mopey things. When my food arrives, my wait for food will be over–ended–as will the delivery person’s job fulfillment–ended. Endings mean the possibility of new beginnings. This truly excites me.

There is a lot of sadness in my life these days–nothing tragic and new, only pre-existing and expected. There is happiness mixed in with the sadness. This is not unlike anyone else either. These things exist among us all, to different degrees, but exist nonetheless. I wish and I resolute things for the coming year, some of which will happen, some of which will not, but most of all on this day I acknowledge the end to another year. The last new year is ending with a new year rightly beginning.

Then, the soft knock.

A man in a motorcycle helmut delivers my food. He says, “Happy New Year.” I say, “Congrats on finishing the last one.”

About J. R. Angelella

J. R. Angelella is the author of the popular debut novel ZOMBIE: A NOVEL (Soho Press) and a contributing author to the murder-mystery anthology WHO DONE IT? (Soho Teen), benefiting the nonprofit organization 826NYC. His short fiction has appeared in numerous journals, including Sou’wester, JMWW, The Collagist, Literary Review, Fifth Wednesday Journal and The Nervous Breakdown. His short story “Sauce” won the 2012 Short Story Contest held by The Coachella Review. He received a BA in English Literature from Ithaca College and an MFA in Creative Writing and Literature from the Bennington Writing Seminars at Bennington College. He taught creative writing at the Gotham Writers’ Workshop in New York City and currently teaches professional writing at the University of Maryland at College Park. He lives in Baltimore with his wife, the writer Kate Angelella.
This entry was posted in My Girl, My Wife, No Country for This Post. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s