Another Christmas without you.
And I’m still wondering what to do.
Or how I manage to make it through.
I find myself missing you at the oddest times.
Not when when I’m angry at people who shop because their social medias told them to do so.
Never when I am lashing out at someone who thought that I’d lay down and let them come over me first with their fucking nonsense.
It’s always when everything around me is going just right. When the sun is shining so damn bright that I find myself happy with life.
The feeling of bliss is then followed with despair, because I feel guilty for living so well.
Without you here.
I try to console myself with thoughts of you watching over me, saving me from my inner struggles, and steering the stellar serendipities straight my way.
That only lasts temporarily.
Until I remember that I still have to spend yet another Christmas without you.
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