On New Years Eve

Upon reflection, New Years Eve is an excellent metaphor for my overall experience in Washington, D.C.  

For the last several years a friend from the chorus would host a New Years party.  It was one of the first social events I attended as a new member of the chorus.  I remember thinking how much fun it was to celebrate New Years with such a wonderful group of people.  I've always had high expectations for New Years Eve, only to never have it turn out as I would have liked.  Whether it was the New Years Eve house party in high school I had to take a taxi to because I wasn't old enough to drive and no one in my family was around to drive me, or the time that I went to dinner with my Dad and Step mom only to be in bed by the time the ball dropped.  

Well, after reaching out to the friend who usually hosted the party, I learned he wasn't doing it this year.  I totally understood and was thinking of what I'd do on New Years now, as I didn't have any plans.  I had talked with another friend and wanted to spend the evening with him.  I even changed my flight coming back to DC earlier so I would be able to ring in the new year with him, knowing it would likely be one of the last times I would hang out with him.  

I decide to throw my own.  I did this for a few reasons.  The first is I hadn't had a chance to host my cookie exchange this year, so why not do it on New Years Eve?  Secondly,  I am not a fan of packed bars and overpriced cocktails.  I've always enjoyed house parties far more than going out.  And thirdly, if I didn't plan a party, I wasn't sure I'd actually have any plans that night. 

I wasn't aware of any other conflicting parties that night and wanted to see as many people as I could, so I started my party early.  I said folks could start dropping by as early as 5:00PM.  A few did, though knowing DC and knowing gays, I wasn't really expecting a majority of people until 6pm or later.  And to my delight, my house was crowded with wonderful friends starting around then.  

But I knew it wasn't going to last until midnight, though I had originally hoped it would.  Earlier that day, I received an invitation for a New Years Eve party that was being hosted by another chorus member and his boyfriend.  I knew that my party wouldn't be able to compete with theirs, as a few people had changed the RSVP on FB from attending to Maybe, only to have their RSVP reflect Yes on the new invite.  

So I messaged one of the hosts.  I asked when they decided to host their party.  After a few minutes, he responded saying it was relatively recently.  I expressed my disappointment that they were hosting a competing party the same night as mine, as I was hoping to host people through the ball drop.  He made some platitude, expressing that their timing wasn't malicious and that he hoped I'd be able to come.  

So 9:30PM on New Years Eve rolls around.  We had run low on alcohol, so I called and ordered more.  I was happy to have my friends around me, celebrating new beginnings and hosting one last hurrah.  Thats when folks started saying their goodbyes.  I can't say I was surprised, but I was disappointed.  I was sad.  I was upset.  I wasn't enough.  They had another party to go to.  They wanted to go somewhere else to ring in the new year.

I was fortunate that not everyone left.  There were a few folks who arrived late and stayed later.  They folks who stayed weren't the folks I expected, but it was wonderful talking to them and spending time with them.  

But the part that hurt the most was the friend I had changed my plans for.  He arrived around 9:00PM (he had to work that day and has a long commute so I get he couldn't get there early), but he left my 10:00PM.  When I saw him get his parka, I was sort of surprised.  I asked if he was leaving and he said yes.  He was meeting one friend, and then going to meet another.  We had talked about our New Years plans pretty extensively and he hadn't mentioned that he had other stuff to do.  If I had known, I honestly would have just gone where he was going instead of planning a party at my house.  

The stragglers that stayed late were yawning by 11:15PM so they decided to pack up some of the cookies and head back to their houses.  I was alone on my bed and happened to see my computer clock flip from 11:59PM to 12:00PM.  

That's how I feel I'm leaving DC.  I don't think I am disliked.  In fact quite the opposite.  I feel like I am relatively appreciated when I'm there.  But I don't feel I will be missed when I'm gone.  I don't feel people will notice the lack fo my presence.  I have loved this city for all its given me.  I have enjoyed most of the relationships I've made.  But leaving has opened my eyes to how I am seen.  I am someone who is not sought out.  I am someone who is natural in the lives of his friends.  I am someone who would consider acquaintances friends, when the opposite would be true.  I am sad to leave DC this way.  But I'd rather leave DC thinking that I am liked than stay and realize that may not be the case.