At this moment, one year ago, I was snuggled on the couch falling asleep with the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with—the man who was probably already considering leaving me. The man who can see me, text me on important days and not miss me, not think that his life was better before, not miss my kiss when he kisses another. A year ago, his arms were wrapped around me, my back firmly pressed into his chest and stomach, content with having Christmas with him—seeing the mermaid salt dish he gave me, him being excited for the gift cards for San Francisco I had given him.
I am so glad I didn’t have to come home to a tree or any decorations at all. I made the right choice. Instead of getting up and spending weepy hours taking down the tree, I get to get up—go to the gym—go to the coffee shop—maybe splurge on a massage—and go to a new musical in town.
I only broke once today, and that was when I got a message from him thanking me for the Christmas gifts that I had given him that he finally opened and telling me that his family says hello. I broke because I knew at that exact time last year, that text had said he had gotten back from him family and he was on his way to pick me up so that we could have Christmas together. That his thank you was so friendly. I will always be his friend, but I’m not his friend. I can’t be. I can’t be his buddy or pal. I guess I’m spoiled, but if I can’t be his husband, I don’t know how to be anything else.
Having my brother and Gavin spend the night was a Godsend. I was up singing to Gavin until one, and then when I got up, opened the window and stared at the snow while praying for him, I heard Gavin cooing from his crib, went to him, and was greeted with the hugest of smiles. The rest of the day was Gavinland. We were all surprised. At five months, we didn’t think he’d give a hoot about presents. He did. He loved them! He loved the ribbons, pulling at the shinny paper, and even playing with the toys. It was obvious he understood what the presents meant. It was so much fun to see him experience his first Christmas. Typically, my brother and I leave on Christmas with loads of presents. This year, due to all the money issues, we each had a small bag of things. Which is completely fine—Gavin, on the other hand, made bank! Which is exactly how it should be, and really was the best medicine for all of us.
So, in review—Christmas went better than expected. One breakdown—not too shabby. Filled with glorious family, baby, and dogs. Christmas is over! No clean up to think of tomorrow! I get to continue living whatever life it is that I am living.