hearth

Last night was one of the most relaxing moments (outside of holding Gavin) that I have experienced in months. I almost (almost) felt like me. We had our Cajun Christmas dinner (Chicken and Sausage Jumbo, Honey and Whiskey Bread Pudding [I know!], and the best Crab Cakes I have ever had] at SLuna’s house. There were only four of us. Three of my oldest, closest, and most trusted friends. Also three of my most beautiful friends, which can still make me nervous in comparison—however, last night, it didn’t even register on the importance scale. And his name didn’t even come up, not once. There were moments where I could feel his presence (or his absence). Moments from when we had this dinner together Christmases past. But, his absence is always with me—a ghost that constantly cloaks my entire being. It’s just a way of life, and I think I might be gradually learning how to function from under the shroud. Just surrounded by friends that accept me, my flaws, my weakness, my hurts, and simply take me as I am. Simply love me. As they always have.
It made me immensely excited for my own Christmas dinner this week. There will be no tree. No lights. I think I can force myself to have Christmas music in the background, but we will see. There will be friends and food. Food and friends. Friends that have stood by my side through so much—even when standing by my side has meant letting me hide and wait for my return. Friends that I trust with everything. Friends that I would give my life for. Friends that make it possible for me to actually find some laughter again in spite of the shell I’ve become. Friends who are always there with open arms and love. Who needs lights? Who needs a tree?