It was December 31, 2007. As I waited at the train station, all I could think about was how warm my Uggs kept me. Whatever, haters, you know you love ’em (or at the least want ’em, but are too afraid to jump on this late trend bandwagon). Sources say that Uggs are so over, well then how come everyone is still wearing them proudly? Well game on, snooty trendsetters! I will wear them until the day I die. The idea behind my comfy footwear choice: Function trumps fashion.
Anyway … In my frozen state, I hadn’t foreseen what the next few hours would bring. I surrendered my Uggs and got myself in a pair of (as comfy as heels could get) round-toed Nina heels. Jason (my boyfriend) and I got ready at his apartment (he: in a spiffy vest and tie; me: in the smallest black cocktail dress I could find), his friends came over to pre-game, and we were off to party.
Fast forward a handful of hours and it was midnight. We had been having so much fun that I had forgotten about my current obsession — Thanksgiving passed, our anniversary, then Christmas, and still, I have not heard the three special words I had been dying to hear and repeat.
So here we are — 10, 9 … 3, 2, 1 … Happy New Year! My boyfriend and I kissed like we never have before. And as much as I hate to quote a dated line dance from the ’90s, “It was electric.” At that moment, the only thing I cared about was being with a super-awesome guy (despite not having heard those three special words; in fact, I had forgotten all about them).
And like magic, we finished our New Year’s kiss and out it came. He said, “I love you.”