Clocks

New Years Eve. 2003.

I'm in one of my favorite clubs in Montreal, Canada, 300 or more miles from my boyfriend at the time. Just coming down from an altered state that kept me dancing until 5am to Deep Dish, some of techno's best djs.

I'm sitting on a bench off to the side, hoping my friends will soon join me, but knowing they just dropped speed balls so it might be another few hours. I sigh and want to cry; I'm just too tired to keep going. Watching all the people moving wildly, lights flashing and pulsing, music throbbing in my ears and heart, for the first time all night I wish I could be anywhere, but here. Why did I say I couldn't make the party so I could be with Matt? Why did I think anonymity in a crowd of sweaty, dancing strangers was where I wanted to spend my new years eve? I finally had someone to kiss and I wasn't even with him...

And then it happened.

8 or less minutes to midnight this song starts spinning. I never dreamed I'd hear Deep Dish mixing Coldplays' Clocks. I was transported in time and space - driving in Alabama, the window down, my hand making waves in the speed of the wind as Matt and I drove somewhere; being in Manchester driving home from work with Amy in the passenger seat; listening to my iPod on a walk after a job interview for my first after college job...so many memories mixed into one little song...

I got up and slowly started dancing, then jumping around. Gold lights swept down from the ceiling to the floor with the swelling changes of the music, illuminating everyone for the first time all night. Everything seemed to sparkle. My sweaty arms left slick matching traces on other people's arms, my hips knocked gently into other unknown hips. As the clock struck midnight, balloons I'd noticed trapped near the ceiling were released. The music, dancing, lights, and balloons gently entwining in slow motion. In my mind, I pictured Matt somewhere, and smiled. Knowing he was out there was enough to make this moment full and complete.

These are the memories we collect and cherish. Where life is never ending and everything feels right. And oh how sweet when Clocks comes on the radio/iPod and all those feelings from all those memories surge inside me, fresh and still alive.

Euphoric.


*Via research for this post, I learned that the club in question, Aria, is now closed. It exists only in the minds of all us crazy dance kids who ever graced their floor.