The Long Island Mike IV

I never much cared for New Year's Eve and all the celebrations. I remember being six years old and ringing in the new year while throwing up with anxiety because I was scared of the constant moving time. Even at such a young age I was aware that time was moving, it would never stop and the time that was gone was never coming back...and the more I thought about it the sicker I became. I guess I was always a neurotic mess when it came to the realization that I was constantly dying.

Mike worked every New Year's Eve, it was his job to set up Times Square for the tens of thousands of people that wanted to catch a glimpse of the ball dropping as they counted down the final seconds of the year. This year was not much different for him in terms of work however he struggled with every passing minute. I would get a text here and there and I could tell he was texting me for small talk as a way to avoid texting her and begging for forgiveness. It's difficult for him to say sorry and mean it, or at least say it in a tone that sounds sincere but this time I think he really is sorry but is too scared to give her that information after weeks of hurling insults at each other. The problem is that once you start to hit below the belt in a fight it breaks down the trust and erodes anything positive that was flourishing. He is hoping she is bluffing and I think he believes that if he is able to stay busy then he can distract himself away from losing the only child he has...and he doesn't even have them yet and may never get the chance to experience fatherhood.

The ball dropped and my heart sunk...what an awful way to ring in the new year...