run right to my house.

all the presents in the world couldn't change the fact that he doesn't like the holidays. the haul of money and gift cards and candy won't change the face that it's just another year his family has gotten him to the point he needed to go to a different room and cry on christmas day. he used to pray for a family get together with no yelling all day, no throwing of dishes, no returned or broken presents because he can't seem to do it right. it's gotten a little better over the years, but he still can't get it right and he still can't stop the yelling. that's when he stopped believing some entity was out there looking out for him, just like there is no real Santa or tooth fairy or Easter bunny. they are just things we like to believe are out there somewhere to make ourselves feel a little better about life. in reality, life sucks, and we know this.  it hasn't quite set in that the season is even near, let alone arrived and partially gone. there is no mistletoe or snow or cups of eggnog for him. he waits for something that will never come and then blames himself for getting his hopes up again. the day draws to a close and he cuddles into bed with quippy gripped tightly to his chest.  filled with good food in what seems like the first time for a long time, he welcomes sleep, knowing that there will be more to eat the next day. for once, the fridge has food to eat other than just for snacks. the only good thing about the holiday, something he hasn't had for years. the first Christmas at someone's house instead of eating out for many years. enjoyable.  <3 <3