Screw Cancer. It’s like a burglar that comes at midnight. It comes in the middle of an unsuspecting night, while you lay fast asleep cozy in bed next to a loved one, or your favorite stuffed animal. Whether it tricks the lock or scales the windows and doors it somehow manages to slip through the smallest unexamined crack, and finds a way in to the place you always assumed would be safe. It defiles your home and leaves you feeling vulnerable and confused. It comes swift and bold and strong. It moves silently, slipping into every room without you having a chance. It ransacks your life, it goes through your belongings and it makes sure you don’t hear a damn thing while it carries out its selfish intentions. It works tirelessly, to gather all the things you hold dear so it can take it for itself. And, by the time you wake up and roll out of the warm comfort of your bed, by the time you walk down the stairs, by the time you catch it, it has removed everything that holds any real value and leaves not a trace of evidence behind to have a culprit to blame. Screw Cancer. It takes your TV and your curtains and all the money you have ever saved. It takes your peace of mind and any idea of security you have ever had. It takes your favorite necklace and your favorite shoes and any favorite you have ever had. Just like the midnight burglar it is needy and silent and fast. It’s only motivation is to take all the things you love and leave you feeling helpless. It has no remorse and no conscience. It is quiet and cunning and destructive. Screw Cancer. If only we had a vague sketch artist drawing of you that we could pin down Criminal Minds style and lock you away for life. If only we had a leading witness to testify against you in trial. If only we had a face to blame. If only we had a way to get all the things back you stole. If only you weren’t the best thief there ever was.
Seeing the ball drop on new years was always a must do for me. Juka (My then boyfriend) promised me on my couch, new years eve of 2013 that next year that would be us. We would be the ones out there under the confetti and singing with Frank Sinatra about one of the coolest places on earth. Me, of course thinking he was all talk. He surprised me a couple months before December of 2013 saying that this was for real, he was going to take me to the city of my dreams on the best night of the year. Or, as he put it “The first day I met you, one of the very first things you said to me was that your dream was to see New York and I swore to myself that day that when I could, I would make that dream come true”, I know, I know I found a great one. So Juka and I came in a few days early to New York. We spent the days seeing the 9/11 Memorial, the Statue of liberty and of course Rockefeller center. Around 2 pm New years eve (this year) we took our spots. Yes you read that right, two pm, and if you can count that means we were outside for a hearty ten hours. We had thought that we had dressed warmly, but after a few hours we almost threw in the towel. If it wasn’t for Jukas constant “we cant turn back now” chant I don’t know if I would have made it after I lost the feeling in my feet. It even started snowing! We actually met some fellow Ohioans (OH!) and they were nice enough to share their pizza with us. Because of course like almost everyone else down there we were incredibly unprepared. As you can imagine ten hours doesn’t creep by slowly even when you are in one of the most magical places on earth. But, I would not have rather been down there in the perfect spot with anyone else. We passed the hours jumping, squatting, laughing, and shivering, and of course hugging for warmth. One of the hugs I felt something square under his jacket and when I asked him what it was he quickly responded with “Um my wallet and stuff”. When everyone was up and ready, it was within the hour that we had all been waiting for, the nivea balloons were passed out and we all got a pair of spider man gloves. A minute before the ball drop I hear Juka say something to me so I turn around to find him down on one knee and my very best friend asked me to marry him, right there on the disgustingly dirty streets of times square. I immediately put the ring on my finger, covered my mouth, and rapidly nodded yes. Just then the count down began, and I would try to explain what it feels like to be newly engaged, standing in one of the coolest places on earth, and chanting down the coming of a new year with millions of people, but I cant really find the words. When the ball was down and the fireworks began, the square became covered in a rainbow of confetti just as I had dreamed it would. We hugged, we cried, we screamed and then we took off for the subway to get the heck out of there. While it took me about an hour to feel my limbs again, I defiantly wouldn’t have changed going. I mean I probably wont go again, but hey it was an amazing once in a lifetime experience. In the middle of Times square I got engaged to a man that I only dreamed existed.
There is something miraculously romantic about the way the warm butter creme light flows from my bedside lamp and tucks itself into every page of my book. The way the light smooths the rough edges of the room and the rough edges of my day. The way in shifts back and fourth, until it finds the perfect place to lay, until it covers the carpets, the quilted blankets. the closets and me. There is something so romantic about the way that candle light dances across my skin and the way it uses my bedroom wall to spend the night doing the Charleston like the flappers of history’s past. And the way that the crisp sweetness of apple fills the room and fills the stories. The way it folds you into itself, and makes you feel at home. There is something so romantic about the way that the words flow off my page and place me in the story. The smells, the people, the way the world looks. The way it sends me on a private trip to a place far away. Far away from my butter creme lamp, from the dancing candle, from today.