Which is where I am right now, because that's where my kid is. I got lucky, and a friend of mine's father lives about a half hour from my parents, and she was heading up to see her dad, and I caught a ride, so I got to spend Christmas here.
I miss Phillip, though. A lot. It's good to be here, but I miss home, and him.
It's actually been good. I don't like holidays in general, but this one has been good. I made some custom ringtones for my little brother and my mom. Watched my little cousins and my kid and everyone open presents. Saw my family. It's been a good day.
But I'll still be happy to go home. I'm never going to be warm and fuzzy about holidays. It's just not me. It's nice, and even kind of peaceful. I'm writing this with my daughter and my little cousin sitting on the floor next to me, and they're playing together while I type. And that's nice. But this isn't my home, and this isn't my life, not really.
I'm an outsider. A visitor. And I don't know. Maybe if I lived here, and was here all the time, it would feel normal? But because I don't, and I'm not, I'm a guest. Weird.
Anyhow. Merry Christmas to everyone. Happy Yule. Happy Holidays. Be well, and happy, and I hope everyone had a good day.
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