This year I thought I was going to make it…
My family has let go of the endless gift buying and giving thing,
so I felt no financial pressure what-so-ever…
I thought I was going to make it…
Even though I knew I could not tolerate a big party this year,
I decorated enough – inside – to keep me content.
Or so I was hoping… I knew I was too tired and broke
to invite so many people into the house,
especially with the disinterest of last year.
I thought I was going to make it…
The decision was made – no lights outside this year.
Although I do not regret it – per se – I do notice
how horribly ORDINARY the house is outside at night…
I was going to make it…
I actually thought I was even-keeled enough this year
that it would be the year. The year I didn’t cry.
Then this whacked-out HGTV show airs about the country’s
most over-the-top holiday displays.
I start balling. Sobbing. The if-I-made-any-noise-I-would-be-blubbering
kinda cry. It is different than in the past. I am not depressed.
I am disappointed. Disappointed that I talked myself out of so much
of the holiday decorating that I love SO MUCH to do…
What is the fuckin’ harm?
I was going to make it…
I am going to bed.
Maybe in my dreams, my house will light the neighborhood
and every room will have its own tree (like it used to)
and garlands and flowers and lights…
Good night.
I am off to dream of a better place.
gryphon's hole 