Happy New Year

It was at a party.  And she may have been a little bit drunk.  And also still a little bit upset about her boyfriend dumping her shortly before Thanksgiving and leaving her to deal with the fall out when she went to visit her family in the small town where they had grown up together and where everyone knew him and probably liked him more than they liked her.  So, yeah, maybe she wasn't in the best state of mind.  But she wasn't going to let that jerk get her down.  Instead of feeling sorry for herself when the clock chimed midnight and all the other couples were happily kissing, she started typing random phone numbers into her phone, typing in "Happy New Year!" and pressing send.

Most of the messages failed to send, but a few seemed to be delivered.  Only one came back with a response, about 5 minutes later:  "Who on earth is this?"

She giggled to herself, not really knowing why, and from where she was cuddled alone on her host's couch while others were still shouting and celebrating, she typed back, "A friend."

She watched the mystery person take a remarkable long time to type a response given that the answer came back as, "I don't have any friends."

"Well you do now!1"

Another minute passed, long enough that she looked away from her phone to the other party-goers and started to wonder if she would be sober enough to drive in a couple of hours or if she was going to have to ask her friend if she could pass out on her couch for the night.  Her phone buzzed with the response to her previous text:  "Did Greg put you up to this?"

She felt puzzled.  "I thought you didn't have any friends," she typed back.

"Greg is my brother."

"Brothers can be friends."

"Not Greg."

She giggled again, a bit louder this time.  And glanced up nervously.  Someone she didn't know was looking at her, but looked away seeming embarrassed when she caught his eye.  She looked back at her phone and replied, "Yeah, my family kinda sucks, too."

She waited a few seconds and when she didn't see a response being typed, she sent, "No, I dont know your brother.  I was lonely and txted sum random nos."

She waited several minutes.  She saw whoever this was typing a response, but whatever it was they were typing never made it to her phone.  Eventually, the indication that a message was being typed disappeared, and after another several seconds, Natalie sighed and went off to get a glass of water and inquire about sleeping arrangements that would allow her to sleep off her current condition rather than risking an accident.


A dozen miles away, Aaron was staring at the last message he had typed back, thumb hovering over "send".  "I'm lonely, too," he had typed.  With a sigh and an eye roll that only he would ever know about, he deleted the message and tossed his phone aside as he collapsed back into his bed.  He closed his eyes and allowed a single tear to slip out of his eyes.  He couldn't explain it, but somehow, this bizarre and brief conversation with a seemingly random stranger made him feel better.  Maybe someday, he might even be happy like mystery messager had suggested.