blarg (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
napoleonherself) wrote2006-12-25 12:35 pm
napoleonherself) wrote2006-12-25 12:35 pm
And so this is Christmas.
It is cold and gray and raining, a state that usually I enjoy, though today it only makes me sad. I am all alone in the house, but for the gerbil and hamster, as I have been since Friday evening; mecha is still up in Indianapolis, being cared for by people with more energy and cheer than I can be relied on to muster. My friends list is utterly devoid of anyone to talk to, everyone either gone as they would usually be, or off doing holiday-related things. Half the Internet is more or less shut down for similar reasons.
It is Christmas, and my fifth anniversary, though my beloved is dead.
The Christmas miracle is an old, old trope in the stories we tell: the idea that something amazing must happen, whether it be the result of magic or of unusual generosity or simply blind but wonderful chance -- simply because, goshdarnit, some of us figure it to be the birthday of some guy who may or may not have existed. I have used the phrase countless times in jest, calling this or that a "Christmas miracle", no matter how ordinary the event might be. Well, now's about the time I could use one of those Christmas miracles for real. Come on, universe. I figure I'm about due now, if ever I will be. I'm not sure what sort of miracle I'm looking for, but we can certainly work that out in the next eleven hours or so.
I am still better off emotionally than I was up in Indy, with nothing to do except sit and fret over how miserable I was. All the same, this is shaping up to be my worst Christmas ever. I said something along those lines to mechamom a few days ago, and she scoffed and called it nonsense. You mean I'll have worse than this? Gods no. Let me believe it can only go up from here, please; let me cling to the illusion that someday I may be happy. It's a threadbare illusion for all the years it's had to last me, but again, won't I be due pretty soon? The happiness I thought I'd have someday has been ripped from me hard enough that the wound still bleeds, but can't I have something someday?
Boy, I'm emo. Maybe when I hit the optometrist in a few weeks, I should get some new glasses with those thick dark rims. Then I can dye my hair black and start hitting the thrift shops.
In my defense, though, I think I've kind of got a good reason.
It is Christmas, and my fifth anniversary, though my beloved is dead.
The Christmas miracle is an old, old trope in the stories we tell: the idea that something amazing must happen, whether it be the result of magic or of unusual generosity or simply blind but wonderful chance -- simply because, goshdarnit, some of us figure it to be the birthday of some guy who may or may not have existed. I have used the phrase countless times in jest, calling this or that a "Christmas miracle", no matter how ordinary the event might be. Well, now's about the time I could use one of those Christmas miracles for real. Come on, universe. I figure I'm about due now, if ever I will be. I'm not sure what sort of miracle I'm looking for, but we can certainly work that out in the next eleven hours or so.
I am still better off emotionally than I was up in Indy, with nothing to do except sit and fret over how miserable I was. All the same, this is shaping up to be my worst Christmas ever. I said something along those lines to mechamom a few days ago, and she scoffed and called it nonsense. You mean I'll have worse than this? Gods no. Let me believe it can only go up from here, please; let me cling to the illusion that someday I may be happy. It's a threadbare illusion for all the years it's had to last me, but again, won't I be due pretty soon? The happiness I thought I'd have someday has been ripped from me hard enough that the wound still bleeds, but can't I have something someday?
Boy, I'm emo. Maybe when I hit the optometrist in a few weeks, I should get some new glasses with those thick dark rims. Then I can dye my hair black and start hitting the thrift shops.
In my defense, though, I think I've kind of got a good reason.
From Grandma
(Anonymous) 2006-12-26 03:43 am (UTC)(link)Your dad told me about your site. I read it tonight. I'm sorry you are alone and sad because of your friend's passing. I think of you often and am happy to know where you are. I hope things will get better. I so remember the clever little girl, my first grandchild.
Love,
Grandma Nancy Lacey
Re: From Grandma
I hope you had a good Christmas, aside from the bit of it you spent reading about all my troubles!