Merry ChristmasYou kicked the snow softly.
“Merry Christmas,” I mumbled.
It was freezing outside, but I could barely feel it – I could barely feel anything. Just my heart beating and the warmth of your body next to mine.
You nodded. “And a Happy New Year.”
I looked up – I was expecting you to laugh sarcastically and rant about how stupid it was to celebrate a fat man in a suit giving overly extravagant gifts to greedy little kids – like you used to way back when. I knew I’d miss you most around the holidays – you always helped me see through all the crap. Maybe that’s why I saw you on the last day of vacation. Maybe it was fate. I always hated fate.
“Good Christmas?” You looked at me.
“I survived – that’s good.”
You chuckled. “You survived.”
It wasn’t a question. I looked at you; your face was so serious. When did we start talking about you?
I nodded, “I survived.” Without you. Who knew it was possible?
Your eyes averted back to the snow. “How’s school?”
I paused and shrugged, “It’s school.”
“You still killing it?”
I laughed. “I think it’s killing me.”
You shook your head, “You always say that.”
You smiled, “Yeah, then let me see your report card.”
You cleared your throat and smiled, “You miss me?” Your eyes shone seriously beneath your stupid hat.
I kicked the snow, Yes. “Nope.”
“You miss me?” I challenged.
“Of course.” He nodded.
I looked down again and cleared my throat, “When are you leaving?”
My voice broke, “Tomorrow, wow.” Subtle.
You looked to the snow again.
I shuffled backwards, “I should go.”
You nodded. “Nice seeing you.”
I smiled, “You too.” I shook my keys, “Good-bye.”
I nodded, “Happy New Year.” I turned around.
“What’s your resolution?” You called.
I hesitated a moment. I hadn’t even thought about it. I smiled softly and whispered, “To be brave.”
Maybe I’ll see you next Christmas and you’ll have that new baby with you. And my resolution will go back to being something trivial like losing weight, instead of trying (and failing) to forget about you. And maybe then I’ll be brave and tell you that I missed you every single day and that school sucked without you. But since I couldn’t I wrote it in the snow. But it blew away in the winter wind. Like it was never there to begin with. Like we were never there.
And maybe we weren’t. And maybe the memory will fade like our footprints and disappear in the wind. And no one will ever know that we were there. And maybe I'll forget we were there too.
Until next Christmas.
With love, Your fool
UtterChaos 22-25, F 2 Jan 1, 2013