My ex-husband couldn’t, and D wouldn’t. That’s what started tonight’s first drink. About the family I don’t have, the life that every year around this time, feels like it doesn’t match my expectations. The what ifs and the might have beens get pulled up from the basement with the ornaments and lights.

Which is ridiculous, because there’s so much more to the story than that simple conclusion.

Then, with the next drink, I start thinking about presents, as I wrap one. I end up in relationships with men who can’t ever figure out what to buy me. I don’t think I have ridiculously high standards. I just want a surprise. I don’t mind giving suggestions, but I’m not going to buy it for you and put your damn name on the tag. I want something to look like me, or remind you of me, or jump out at you because you thought I’d love it. And yet, there isn’t one thing I can say I really want. Not a material tangible thing.

I’ve had too much time to think this last month. Working 50 hours + per week isn’t enough when D is gone most days / nights. I get stuck in my own head. I get sad. Tonight, I get drunk.

I have friends, but those I’ve reached out to are too busy for me. I know this time of year is so crazy. Spending time with family, getting ready for the big day. I’ll be lucky if I see him at all. I should get a couple of hours with him on Christmas. I’ll be spending Christmas eve alone, and thankful I have to work part of the day, for it won’t feel quite as bad.

I want to pretend it isn’t Christmas. After all, my house isn’t decked out as usual, just the tree. I haven’t baked, or gone to a party; there’s been no light viewing or carol singing. None of the usual December traditions have occurred. I could just pretend it isn’t Christmas. If only I could.