I looked down at the Las Vegas strip, my head pressed against the window and I thought "I wonder where I'll be for Christmas next year"....
A year later and I'm not where I thought I'd be. I'm not living overseas, but back in New Orleans instead. I'm not celebrating a ninth Christmas with Sara, but instead celebrating the first without her.
This year has seen a lot of introspection from me. At this time last year, I felt a little lost, or like I'd settled for a life that wasn't my own. This year I'm living one of my own making and while it may not be the one that I planned, it's mine.
It's Christmas time, so of course I miss the good moments and have conveniently overlooked the bad ones. I warm myself with thoughts of the good times, like we all do during sentimental days.
I started dating this year, found myself seeing new people for the first time in the better part of a decade. Nothings really worked out, but that's probably because of my own obstacles as much as anyone else's. I'd had this notion in my head that I'd be spending Christmas with someone new, someone that would fill me with hope. Not deliver happiness to me in shiny wrapping under the tree, but give me the hope that it was possible, probable. It isn't up to anyone else to give me that though, I know that I have to find it on my own.
What I have gotten this year is a group of amazing, supportive, lovely friends that have become part of my family. They've take me to do things, invited me out when they thought I needed company, allowed me to be overindulgent when they knew that I sort of needed it. They've held my hand, they've put their arm around my shoulder, they've cheered me up and cheered me on. I love these people, deeply, for their part in my Christmas Present.
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