I look at the words, and I wonder. Everyone around me seems so happy. I am so ecstatic that the day has finally come. A chance to just be merry and hang out with friends and family. I search myself for something—a sliver of hope, a silver lining on a very dark nimbostratus cloud. I finally ask myself, Why am I feeling this way? Why am I like this?
Maybe its because ever since she happened, Christmas hasn’t been the same. It’s that event that cements the absence and overwhelming need for presence. Now, when that is taken away, the space that it leaves is just too big to fill. How can I attempt to do that on my own? However, there are moments when I smile when I remember that last three bean salad. Not because of the taste but just the idea that she made it, and it’s a core memory. I just want to be happy and smile with my whole body, especially when I’m supposed to. The type that this girl I’m dating does when I make a corny joke.
I want to be carefree with my thoughts. Tired of having red tape and warning lights everywhere. Classified my ass. This isn’t a spy movie! It’s Christmas, and I feel so sad. I have to dig deep to smile, laugh, and show up. I have to get out of my head and stop thinking about how I have deep-seated trust issues. I think of a story I was told about a boy whose parents would always make promises they wouldn’t( I had put couldn’t, but I don’t think it’s about ability) keep, making him write lists and lists of things he wanted and then constantly reminding him of those lists on calls and then never showing up. That is probably why I lock up when people ask me what I want. My mom hid a lot of stuff from me; she hid her sickness from me, and then she died. I thought we were closer than that. To everyone else, she was sick for a long time. She needed the rest; her body was tired. That feeling people get when someone fights cancer and eventually loses. It wasn’t cancer, though; she was anemic, and something happened to her lungs. But to me, I last saw her healthy and strong, then later on for a few days. My last memory of her is from Exeat Weekend 2012. It was the best exeat I have ever had; we had a great time. Then the next thing you hear is that she is dead. I don’t even remember her face. So I think to myself: Maybe on those days she stood her strongest. But if I had known, I would have made those days more memorable. I would have loved her more (I don’t even know what that means). Let her hold me and play with my hair while I lay my head on her chest, hearing her heartbeat. Her heartbeat gave me peace. If I had known like everyone else, I would have told her about how I struggle with happiness and how I always feel awkward, out of place, and stuck in my head. I would have told her that my worst fear was losing her because her presence calmed down all my storms. You know being anxious and being a child is just terrible. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. If I had known that she was in the fight of her life, I would have stayed home longer. I would have accepted it and made peace with it, like everyone else. But here we are. I wish there was more time. I wish there was more time for us. There are so many things that I would have said that are now just sighs and forbidden thoughts.
Christmas is ruined!
When are we going to feel like we imagine?? When are we going to be in the future? Where even why trucks break down at the most inconvenient spot makes sense. Life is really about making the interface stable while the user experience is friendly. That’s as much as I know about rockets and stars. What I confidently know, though, is that life is too short for you to worry about whether she likes you back. its more about finding out and embracing the outcome. surfing the lows and appreciating the highs. So thank you, for listening to me blab about my story. Maybe it would be an overstatement for me to say that you could relate to some of the things. Honestly, I would prefer that you wouldn’t, because then I could be special and be one of many. But if this journey has taught me anything, it is that my specialty is not in my uniqueness but in how I use it to touch the lives of those around me. Sometimes it felt like the world was out to get us, and maybe it would have gotten me, but it didn’t.
As a member of the Way, I am a firm believer in Christ. What I have been realizing of late is that Christmas on it’s own isn’t about me. Yes, we have large meals, drink till we drop, dance till we cant, and many other lovely things. Christmas is about Christ and God loving us so much that he gives us his son. The King, who was murdered in the most horrific way possible, so that you and I can have salvation. So in as much as I think about my dead mother, my trust issues, my pain, and depression—yes, my depression. So in as much as I fixate on being happy with family, digging deep for body smiles, the love of my life, goals, desires, and needs. The reason for Christmas is that Christ became man. He was born in a manger so that I could be able to stand in God’s presence.
It isn’t about me or you. It’s about him & only him , we are all just NPCs that need purpose.
So as we go about our lives and days, let us not be distracted into missing the whole point of this. As we live and be merry, let’s not forget the why; it’s all that matters.
Merry Christmas, kids, and don’t forget to be Dandy, with Christ, of course.
Christmas is indeed about Christ!