the definition of complication.
so,christmas passed...as it does.just like that.
every year now it is the same.first the excitement.the lights going up everywhere.i have this thing about all the windows of the shops around central london.i have to see them.i get disappointed if they aren't as as magical as i think they should be.it's all hot chocolate with marshmallows,and wandering in the cold bedazzled by sparkly things.like a child.
see,it's odd.because in most ways i wasn't a child like that.i was serious.sensible.cynical.
still am.but sparkly magical things always got me.made my eyes cloud over with wonder.
but then.i grew up a little,and realised my family didn't actually get on quite as well as it always seemed when i was smaller.we were not all together at christmas anymore.they don't need to pretend.not now that the kids,are not kids anymore.
i sit attempting to make a sentence in my head that explains why it is this way.why my family finds it so hard to be together.that when they are.it's formal and tense.and i always leave feeling empty and sad.so i don't see them.and feel guilty.missing them.caring so much,but pretending that i don't.that this is just the way it is.
nobody gets past small talk.every meeting is like starting again.my mother doesn't even remember that i don't like onions for gods sake! it hurts.my insides ache.my heart aches.
there are things about my grandmother i wish i knew.i'm not even certain what my grandfather was called.i don't know precisely where she was born.i don't know how to ask the questions,
because no one has ever asked questions.i don't know how to start talking when no one talks.
it's ridiculous.i know.
i stayed home alone for christmas.not wishing to feel trapped in a bad dream.i did the same the year before.it seems my maternal side of the family,is helping to turn me into my father.
who,now on the 19th day of the new year i still haven't heard from.not at christmas.not for newyear.the complications go on.
all i'm left with is guilt.
every year now it is the same.first the excitement.the lights going up everywhere.i have this thing about all the windows of the shops around central london.i have to see them.i get disappointed if they aren't as as magical as i think they should be.it's all hot chocolate with marshmallows,and wandering in the cold bedazzled by sparkly things.like a child.
see,it's odd.because in most ways i wasn't a child like that.i was serious.sensible.cynical.
still am.but sparkly magical things always got me.made my eyes cloud over with wonder.
but then.i grew up a little,and realised my family didn't actually get on quite as well as it always seemed when i was smaller.we were not all together at christmas anymore.they don't need to pretend.not now that the kids,are not kids anymore.
i sit attempting to make a sentence in my head that explains why it is this way.why my family finds it so hard to be together.that when they are.it's formal and tense.and i always leave feeling empty and sad.so i don't see them.and feel guilty.missing them.caring so much,but pretending that i don't.that this is just the way it is.
nobody gets past small talk.every meeting is like starting again.my mother doesn't even remember that i don't like onions for gods sake! it hurts.my insides ache.my heart aches.
there are things about my grandmother i wish i knew.i'm not even certain what my grandfather was called.i don't know precisely where she was born.i don't know how to ask the questions,
because no one has ever asked questions.i don't know how to start talking when no one talks.
it's ridiculous.i know.
i stayed home alone for christmas.not wishing to feel trapped in a bad dream.i did the same the year before.it seems my maternal side of the family,is helping to turn me into my father.
who,now on the 19th day of the new year i still haven't heard from.not at christmas.not for newyear.the complications go on.
all i'm left with is guilt.
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