The Lost Christmas

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Christmas sucks. I can't continue the day without getting my feelings out. These are them. 12/25/07.

Submitted: December 25, 2007

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Submitted: December 25, 2007

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Holidays are always stressful.
Holidays at my house always suck.
I thought this year would be different.
I should have known better.
The dreary news and the rainy days
Make this Christmas seem nonexistant.
I thought Christmas day would change its surroundings.
I was wrong again.
The mass was beautiful.
The house a mess.
I no longer dream of a white Christmas.
I dream of a Christmas where there's no yelling and screaming.
I dream of a Christmas where we actually celebrate being together.
I'm sick of the past mistakes.
I'm sick of the guilt trips.
I'm sick of the laziness.
I'm not perfect.
Never have been and never will.
I.
Don't.
Expect.
To.
Be.
Christmas dangled the small thread of hope I had left.
The small hope it would be a good holiday.
And yanked it away in the end.
Now I sit here.
Writing because I have no other means to express my hurt.
Not having anyone to be there.
Being completely alone in all of this.
I'm so done.
Forget staying until tomorrow.
Why endure 12 extra hours of pain more than necessary.
I'm ready to survive without them.
To write them off completely.
The way they do with anything good I do for them.
Inside I'm screaming and writhing in pain.
Yet the outside I'm silent and mellow.
Attempting not to allow these screams to exit my being.
And keeping the tear ducts dry is no longer a task.
I'm becoming numb and unfeeling.
That which I have always been scared of becoming.
I'm ready to have a Kid's Christmas again.
I'm ready to find my way.


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