I love Christmas. Having spent every Christmas of my life in Australia I dream of one day having a White Christmas. A White Christmas just seems magical to me and I absolutely intend to spend it one year in New York. I love Christmas carols, I love the decorations, I love buying and wrapping presents, I love the food (who doesn’t?) – I love it all.
Last year was the first time in a long time that I even felt like celebrating it. I even went to midnight Mass. Something which I have not done since I was a student at a Catholic primary school. It also helps when you have someone to buy presents for, and whom also shares your excitement over Christmas festivities.
But this year I do not have anyone to buy for, or sing Christmas carols to (albeit badly). And almost to emphasise the point, I got a call from Mr X yesterday, for no apparent reason. He told me he was in the middle of packing, and confirmed that the house he and his new love bought has now settled and they are moving in.
Strangely… I was ok! My first reaction was one of excitement for them, and NOT to burst into tears. Amazing!
Ok- so I may have woken up in the middle of the night and had a little cry (delayed reaction?) but it didn’t last long. What sparked it was a dream about the night when everything changed between Mr X and I, and I had been too scared to ask what was wrong. I kept thinking if I had, right then and there, perhaps things might have been different, as he may not have then spent the next two months ignoring me, and I would not have spent those months analysing and re-analysing every action, every word, working myself into a nervous wreck, eventually losing patience and answering an email I discovered when I logged into an internet dating site to delete my inactive account (having decided that I was totally over men)….and then perhaps I would not have launched into a new (but doomed) relationship which ensured the complete destruction of any further chance of a relationship with Mr X.
But I’m dwelling on the “what-if?”‘s and that is not at all constructive. Though, after yesterday’s developments I feel like I have made a breakthrough of some kind, which may, or may not be the result of my somewhat nonchalant outlook of late. In any case, whatever is numbing my brain and at least partially, my heart, I am thankful for it.
So, this year, whilst I am back to being Christmas Scrooge with “bah-humbug”‘s being muttered here there and everywhere, the bitter venom seems to have dissipated a little, and though I will not be putting up a tree (it’s really only fun when you have someone to help you), or cooking anything Christmassy (it is summer after all and I need to be comfortable in swimming cozzi’s!), or decorating (this blog excepted) – I may still sing along badly to some carols – I feel a lot calmer about it this year. It is almost as though I might actually be starting to believe that there will come a day, eventually, when I will have someone (other than my dogs) with whom I can unabashedly express my inner Christmas Geek.