The Snow Is Sand

All that is on my mind currently:

Christmas, a time for friends, family, and the spirit of giving. I guess two out of three isn’t all that bad. I have got some baked love to hand out to all the people that have made this year worth living and I am very excited to present it to them, but something is missing. I was raised with my stepmother, my father, and my two younger siblings; I was never really fond of my Dad for reasons better left unsaid, but everyone else is mandatory to my basic functioning. I had to move away three years ago after the divorce, due to her lacking custody and me not wanting to burden her further as a single mother. I have been able to travel to spend at least a chunk of the holiday with them in past years, however this year I have been working and taking on extra shifts in order to pay for some of my college loans that will be accumulating here shortly. I am having issues facing the fact that this Christmas is going to be hard on me. It hurts to see everyone missing you when you have to leave abruptly to go to work, cutting everyone’s time short. It hurts to see how much my siblings have grown when I sit back and remember like it was yesterday when I was reading bedtime stories to them.

I would move in, but I can’t. Well technicality I could, but then my mother has almost sworn to disown me. I don’t know why that thought bugs me. I have never been close to her or her husband or anyone on that part of my family to any meaningful extent. Why can’t I just leave? At this point, my mother barely provides for me and I could provide a portion of the income for my stepmother if she needed it. I would have love, support, and actually have interest in what was going on with my life. I was raised with that and now that it is gone these past three years have left me hollow. It pains me to just visit my stepmother, following it I have weeks of homesickness and emotional torment; but the longer I go, the less it hurts. It probably seems immature, but I just don’t know. Maybe I’m just not strong enough. I just don’t know.

I can go weeks without talking to my mother, even though we live together. The current record is two weeks and the only words she said to me were asking about how was work. Who can go two weeks without talking and then simply ask about the most impersonal thing besides the weather?  Maybe this is how other families function. I feel like I have nowhere to turn for answers about this. I know that I should just be thankful that I have a roof over my head and that I am no longer getting abused, but that four month span after the divorce where it had just been my me, stepmom, and two siblings completely altered my perspective. I know I will never have that back fully and the only way I can get it back for good is to model my own family on what she has taught me. It all seems to brief; all of life is a breath. Here for a second and then dying the next. I need to cherish what I have left on this spinning blue marble, for it will all be gone soon enough.