106. Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

I’ll probably always remember that day in Chicago, the last day of the year and what might be the first day to the start of a new life.

I don’t know.

Maybe Kelsey and I will drift apart next semester, or she’ll go off to school and I’ll never see her again. I don’t know.

I just know that at this moment she’s safe with my father and me in Chicago. We spend the day sightseeing and laughing and eating and laughing more and crossing sidewalks and looking at more sights.

But that’s a tale for another story, right?

I almost feel guilty, because I can’t help remembering last year. Yet I can’t tell Kelsey or Dad.

I imagine what it would be like to be able to tell this bright-eyed girl everything. And I mean everything.

It’s a nice thought.

I’m trying not to look too far ahead with her.

All I can do is keep her by my side this day and this night.

The rest … well, whatever happens, happens.

So I let it happen later that night with the rest of the crowd sitting and standing in Grant Park near the edge of Lake Michigan watching the fireworks while Chicago’s skyline surrounds us. It’s too loud to say anything that can be heard unless you shout it. I don’t want to say anything. I just smile.

Tomorrow will be a new year, and a new story will start to unfold.

But I don’t want to worry about that right now.

Nor do I want to look back and regret all the awful things that have occurred.

There’s a piece of me that is filled just being around Kelsey. I can’t explain it, but it’s always been there when she’s been near.

I reach out and hold her hand. And as the countdown commences, we call out the numbers until we reach one, and everybody shouts and celebrates and wishes each other well.

Standing there under an unfamiliar sky, the fireworks going off, I lean down and kiss lips that seem to fit mine perfectly. The kiss Kelsey gives me isn’t timid or weak, but fierce and somewhat mind-blowing.

I never thought kissing Kelsey would be like that.

When I move back and look down at her, I just know.

I finally realize this thing that on some level I’ve always known about Kelsey.

Not the cute smile or the crystal blue eyes or the long legs but something else. Something deeper and more important.

Something that a teenage boy doesn’t always pick up.

She’s never given up on me. She’s been relentless in trying to win me over.

I can’t speak for tomorrow. But for now, she’s done her job well.

She’s won.

And I’m lost.

And strangely, I feel better.