I hate Christmas

I don't feel like being a maudlin idiot here, so I'll keep this brief. I hate Christmas. Not for what Christmas is, but for what it once was. I hate the memories this fucking season dredges up. I hide from them, I see my friends, I see my family, I do everything I can. But alone I can't ignore them. I remember a time when I was happy, when Christmas filled me with that sappy annoying joy that everyone is supposed to feel. Sometimes I feel I'll never get that back and that is what I hate. I am tired of feeling alone. I know I have my friends; I've regained dearly missed friendships, made new ones, even rekindled slightly tarnished friendships. I have more friends now than I have ever had in my life. But I'm still lonely, and when I'm alone, like the end of this fucking holiday night, I can't escape my own head.

Merry Christmas to me.

Don't mind me, I'm sure I'll be back to normal, as normal as I ever am anyway, soon as this holiday shit goes away. But if you see me, and you think of it, I wouldn't turn down a hug.