My favourite time of year.
No expectations, no waiting for the sun, no thinking it could be warmer. Everyone anticipating christmas, waiting for the glitz and sparkle of winter parties. The woody smell and perfect light of the open fire, the cuddles and mulled wine with friends and lovers. Watching movies curled under a blanket, reading books with hot chocolate, all the fuzzy warmth of knowing nothing else matters but this relaxing loving moment.
Then the last week comes, heavy with memories and hope. Reminding you why every year you say 'never again'. All shadowed by the creeping cloud of January, realising once again the long wait until sun breaks through. The days of uneventful grey. The cold alone months.
But not this year. This, the last noughtie year, the year of fun. I demand to see nothing but joy in the looming emptiness. These final weeks of being in the shire, bumping into ex's, being dragged around the country for small talk with "family". Throughout it all, I will hold in my heart my true family. You who are always there. You who know my interests, know my failures, know my life. Knowing that maybe next year, I'll get to spend it with you. Not with these strangers who claim relation. My friends, my brothers and sisters, and the music, will carry me through into this new decade with a smile on my face and the sweet satisfaction of knowing I have everything I need in my life. Thank you.
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