I mostly consider myself “over” my breakup, whatever that means. It happened months ago (9ish), I have bounced back! I have a life, a tiny apartment, custody of my spoiled kitty. But the holidays seem to have brought back a bit (maybe more than a bit) of the sadness. In the last couple of Covid years, we spent Christmas home together with gifts and pies and lots and lots of movies. Last year they read one of my gifts on Christmas Day (interview with a vampire) while I added film to my Camera and figured how to put ink in the Fountain Pen. We ordered Alabama bbq their favorite, through Goldbelly. Even before Covid restricted Travel, we went to our families together. This is the first “Holiday season” without them in probably 5 years. Lots of things are tinged right now for me: the Season 3 Thanksgiving episode of Gilmore Girls (say it ain’t so), most corny Holiday movies, and even a lot of my Christmas decor. We split the ornaments (pretty obviously) but still. The Tree et al are just reminders. So I think I might get a small tree, for my tiny apartment. Maybe it will be pink. It will fit my ornaments, so they don’t feel like they are “half” the ornaments anymore. But the thing that hit me the hardest was the Holiday PJs. I was organizing clothes today and came across multiple sets of Holiday Pajamas, all Pajamas that we got in Matching sets. So I bagged them all up for donation and when I did my Target sick person order (soup, water, liquid IV, juice, cold meds) I added Gnome Pajamas. A single pair. Because Christmas was Christmas before them and it will be Christmas again and until then I will have hot pink things and gnomes.
Feel this but mom edition. Just come spend the season with me 🙃
Love you