I like the word magical. The essence of what it means is completely wrapped up in the sound of that word. Some things in life are just magical. I think for a lot of people that’s what Christmas is. I’ve imagined it being magical. Reality isn’t really in sync with that though.
With so much dysfunction surrounding my family (mostly my mother), I long for a Christmas that is pure joy. But it often brings a profound sense of loneliness. For now I just buy my niece and nephews lots of presents and revel in their joy. It’s enough for now. They are sweet and innocent and truly do experience Christmas as magical.
I’ve always dreamed of having a magical Christmas. Someone to share it with. My own sweet family. People on whom I would spend all of my energy to make them smile. If there is any time of year that I want that the most it is Christmas time. But for now it’s Christmas on my own.
It’s very sad and unfortunate that there can be so much pain this time of year but I’m afraid it can’t be avoided. Sometimes you really have to just stare it in the face and let it pass. Honestly, fighting it or trying to ignore it or push it down only makes it worse. Not everyone is able to experience a magical, love-filled Christmas and I hurt for those people.
A magical Christmas is one spent with the people (or person) you love the most. Take away the gifts, and the lights, and the food, and the hurrying about and you are left with the simplicity of love. Just love. That is magical.
I want to find someone who I can say “do you want to change the world together?” to and he will respond with a resounding “yes.” People that want to change the world are people I fall in love with. Love changes the world. That’s an awesome thing. But it also means that my heart gets ripped apart a lot. No matter how many times that happens though, I still think it’s necessary to be real and raw and not be ashamed of who you are. Truly loving changes you.
I was just thinking today about how I’ve spent a whole lot of my life so far pretending. Pretending I wanted things I didn’t want. Pretending things were ok when they were far from it. Pretending that I was happy when I was really falling apart. I got very very good at pretending. Guess what… it’s exhausting.
I’ve got a lot of life to live and lot of love to give. They aren’t in abundance, but not seeing and taking advantage of those magical things can make life seem sad and gray. For as much as I’ve never really felt loved by my mother, it is easy for me to love. That actually surprises me sometimes. I love easily. I don’t know why. Christmas is ultimately about love. So I will keep on loving.