It's Christmas day.  I'm the girl that has a chain made from the red and green construction paper in August.  I'm the girl who loves to get everyone of my farmers a gift, homemade card, and food.  I honestly enjoy giving more than I do receiving.  I love the lights, and the sounds and the smells.  I love Christmas. 

Not this year.  I struggled through the mandatory cards.  I haven't put up a tree in two years.  I don't have a single urge to see anyone today but my four footed felines.  I don't love Christmas. 

I sit here and think of Grandma and George and can't even find tears.

It's a weird feeling.  Like looking at yourself through a really small opening.  You have to close one eye and squint and move around to see anything and even then you don't get the whole picture. Pinpricks. 

I'm finding I'm becoming a tad less....unhappy? 

I'm still bitter.

I'm still jaded.

I still want things that I know I'll never have.

And I hate myself for wanting.

Sooner or later you'll come face to face with whatever demon (or demons) that haunt you.  I wonder if I'm up for this fight? 

I'm tired of fighting.  It would be so easy to fall.