Dear Single People,

Hi. How have you been since I last saw you? Still using glow sticks as drink stirrers? Cool. Well it’s that time of the year again, so I have a few things to say before we run into one another. First of all I’m going to need you to breathe for a second. It seems that the champagne plus the four-inch heels plus the dance floor grinding are stealing oxygen from your brain. (I can’t be sure of the science here, because I’m not a scientist. I’m just 11:59 PM on New Year’s Eve.) I know that I am one of the worst times to be single, second only to the wedding bouquet toss, but this is no reason to lose your head.

Secondly, you look great. You appear glittery and alive—well done. If you’ve already managed to find a Fellow Single and are having a good time, that’s fantastic. Carry on, and know that a good relationship can start on New Year’s Eve, even if my Google searches for examples yielded nothing. Otherwise, a word of advice: There is no need to start viewing everyone around you as potential random hookups just because the midnight hour is staring us down. If you haven’t hit it off with someone by the time I roll around, just keep on dancing with your friends instead of searching desperately for someone with whom to share an awkward kiss at the countdown. I know you’re not thinking clearly, but is it really so horrible to just end 3-2-1 by using your lips to yell “Happy New Year!”?

Now, I know your friends all came with a date, and maybe you’re going to have to wait for them to stop making out before you can give and receive your first hug of the new year, and that sucks. If I was president, no one would have to wait for hugs ever. But since I am just 11:59 on New Year’s Eve, I say use this time to recklessly blow your horn or wave your sparkler and think about how much fun you had this year, and all the amazing things you want to do next year. Also who says you can’t break it down to Auld Lang Syne? Now’s as good a time as any to break out some killer moves and impress at least your own self. And look! Everyone is done making out and they’re ready to join you. See? Dancing is always a good idea.

I’m writing you this letter because I love you. And also because I need a break. Every December 31, I have to deal with the pressure of harboring hopes and dreams and wishes and glowsticks that every other 11:59 PM doesn’t. You think Santa has a lot on his plate? I’ve long thought about finding the person who came up with the countdown and punching them in the nose. It’s not that it’s a bad tradition, per se, but what I’ve seen it do to otherwise functioning adults is just silly.

So let me be the first to say: I am not a big deal. I mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, and I certainly hold no special magical powers for the start of your new year. Let me go. Let me pass by you this year like just another tick of the clock. Let your night progress how it was going to whether or not I signaled to you that the Big Moment was almost here.

Because spoiler alert: The big moments never happen when you’re looking for them. The big moment is all the good memories that are behind you, and all the ones you look forward to making, and you know what? This is true every time the clock strikes midnight every day of every year. You have plenty of chances to start anew, and you never know what tomorrow will bring. (Although, in this case, it’s likely to bring a hangover.)

So now’s the time to get your hands on the champagne they’re passing out, because if you don’t, you actually have a good reason to panic.


11:59 PM on New Year’s Eve

[Image via here.]