Devin Elise Wilson - Fireworks

 

New York City, New Year's Eve. 2020 is going to be a great year. [audience laughter] With my hype song out tonight from Rent, on blast, repeat, I get all jazzed up. I do my makeup, my nails. I lotion my entire body and not just the parts visible to the world. I put on a new dress that hugs me in all the right places, and I throw on a big fluffy coat that makes me feel like a movie star. I grab a couple of condoms and put them in my bag, because you never know. And a lady should always be prepared, especially when she feels this good. 

 

Just as I'm leaving the apartment, I get a text message. It's from my dad. It says, “Hey kiddo, there's a saying that some people use, I don't really like it.” Here goes. “The best way to get over a man is to get under a new one. That's BS. I know you know that. Enjoy your special evening.” [audience laughter] Now, let's backtrack for a minute here. My boyfriend of four months and I had just broken up the day before. We made plans months ago to spend New Year's Eve together in the city at his place, but by the time the holiday came around, we both knew what was coming. There was no spark, and quite honestly, my gut had been trying to tell me for the entirety of the relationship that this just wasn't it. He didn't actually see me. 

 

So, I was glad for the clean break while simultaneously sad to be alone in the city on New Year’s. When I realized I could ring it in from my happy place, Marie's Crisis, I knew I was ready for a fresh start. But how could my dad sense my energy from across the country though? I laughed to myself as me, and my Happy New Year headband and my condoms left the house. Marie's Crisis is a musical theater sing along show tune piano bar in the West Village, and there is no place like it. It's easy to make friends when you're all singing, Defying gravity, Circle of life and Seasons of Love at the top of your lungs. There was one woman in particular who I'd seen there before, she had the voice of a Broadway star. After singing a few songs with each other, she pulled me into her group and we all sang and drank together. 

 

A couple hours in, they started talking about kisses at midnight. She turned to me and said, she was kissing a couple other people, but she'd like to kiss me too. I'd never kissed a woman before. I'd always been open to it, but the opportunity had never presented itself so organically. So, midnight comes around. Five, four, three, two, one. Happy New Year. No kiss for Devin. 12:05, still no kiss. She's busy celebrating with her friends, and I'm not the type to tap her on the shoulder like, “Hi, remember me?” 

 

So, after some high fives and Happy New Year wishes with the random musical theater lovers around me, I slightly disappointed, just keep singing. About 12:15, she turns to me and we lock eyes. I don't think either of us were expecting that kind of kiss. Fireworks. She pulled back and said, “Ooh, this might be my favorite kiss of the night. Don't tell the others.” I didn't, but they might have guessed, because what we did do was continue to make out shamelessly. At a certain point, she leans in and whispers, “Do you want to come home with me?” I say, “Yes,” followed by, “I've never been with a woman before.” She says, “It's okay. I have.” And we keep singing and kissing. 

 

She would pop in and out for a smoke break here and there. When she'd come back in, she'd check, “You're still coming home with me, yeah?” I was getting increasingly more nervous, but not because this would be my first time. So, on her next break, I thought, okay, let's tell her that we're herpes positive now, so that she can make a decision sooner rather than later. So, with resolve, I throw my coat over my shoulders and I walk outside. I was expecting to catch her smoking alone, but she was in a group of at least five people and all I heard was, “You guys. She said it like 10 times. She's definitely coming home with me.” I froze like a deer in headlights. I definitely wasn't supposed to be hearing this. 

 

I pivoted on the balls of my feet to avoid the click clack of my heeled boots on the pavement as I tiptoed back into the bar. They were talking about me. I guess they thought I wasn't going to go through with it. Little did they know me not going through with it was furthest from my mind. Last call. Final song. We hop in a cab, and I am multitasking, enthralled by the feeling of her lips on mine while simultaneously trying to build up the courage. “You can do it. Just say it.” We're on the west side highway now, about 150 blocks from her place, 100 from mine. “Okay, just say it before we pass your place, so if she changes her mind, we can make two stops.” 

 

I allow myself to sink into the unbridled pleasure of us for a few more blocks. Just as I'm coming to the peak of my internal pep talk, she turns to me and says, “I should have said something sooner--" But my heart is racing. “Are you allergic to cats?” [chuckles] I respond, “No,” with a giggle and she laughs too.” She has unknowingly given me the perfect in. I take a breath and say, “Speaking of things we should have mentioned sooner.” And I tell her. I tell her that I'm herpes positive and this is how it manifests in my body, this is how I manage it and this is what it means for us tonight. 

 

As I wait for her response, I'm proud of me for allowing myself to live fully despite fear. She thanks me for my honesty and says, “This is worth the risk.” And then, we talk about her sexual health history too. Finally able to fully relax into us, into our chemistry, our heat, I feel seen in a way that I haven't in a long while. Walking to the train the next morning with All Tonight still blasting on repeat in my headphones, I can't help but grin as I reminisce about the night before, what a way to ring in the New Year. I will save you the play by play, but let's just say, I definitely didn't spend that night under a man.