It's what now?

It's coming up on the time of the year where I realize I'm dead inside. Perhaps I should back up a bit. I used to love Christmas in a way which is illegal in a couple of states. I don't mean in just the childlike IT'S-CHRISTMAS-I-CAN'T-SLEEP-WAKE-UP-MOM-AND-DAD kind of way either. As I outgrew that phase I retained a love of Christmas. I loved Christmas music, all the classic TV specials, the tree and decorations. The whole bit. I even went nuts with the gift buying. I would spend more time than is reasonable roaming far and wide looking for the perfect gifts for my family and friends. The thrill of the hunt was my December ritual.

And then, one year, it happened. I was pleased enough to have a tree in my apartment even though I didn't help pick it out with my room mate. The decorations she put up were nice as well, but the last second shopping I found myself doing was a pain in the ass. "Good enough" was my hallmark that year. That was a the beginning of the end. Everything after that was a downward spiral. With each passing year, December became a month of chores. Eventually, having landed in a pad by myself, the collapse was nearly complete.

Christmas would come and go, and to look at my apartment one would never even know the holidays were neigh. I became a trope. The guy who thought of Christmas as just another day. I was Scrooge, but not rich or quite as huge of an ass. For a time I dated a woman who probably loved Christmas more than me, and was almost better at it than I was at the height of my powers. A bit of me always felt a little bad that I couldn't match that love, but her enthusiasm always made me smile.

The last nail in the coffin (pun intended) was when my father passed away. He was the last parent to actually surprise me with Christmas presents. I was in college and he blindsided me with a hard shell case for my guitar, some sheet music for some songs I had been wanting, and a couple of vintage barrel house blues records that I didn't know I wanted til I saw them. It sounds like nothing, but in hazy hindsight it was everything. I've haven't been much of a friend of Christmas for some time, and it really doesn't bother me, but every now and then I miss it. Whatever it is.