lumos maxima

so, I haven’t written on here for a while. To be honest, I’m not sure where to start or what to say. It’s christmas at 1:04am in the year 2020 and another year since my parents walked out on me. another holiday season of me thinking of what we could have been. of the high hopes and day dreams of being in love and with my s/o dancing in front of a warm fireplace, our clothes still a little wet from the snow, and just being happy and caring for someone who cared for me just as much. 

I wish things were different, I really do. The christmas seasons since 2015 have gotten easier a little more each year but that doesn’t necessarily mean it has gotten less painful. all it does it prove that I’ve just gotten better at hiding the pain or shielding myself from one-too-many breakdowns. I miss my parents. I miss feeling loved and their christmas/holiday traditions and just how magical and happy [and naive] I was during that time. 

I also miss my ex. Or at least, the idea of my ex and of being in love and wishing someday of having holiday dinners, getting married, making love, making memories, and just being happier. I feel like I’ve wasted so many of my youthful days just living in a false reality, since the actual reality I was living in was just lies built upon lies, both from my parents and from him. Part of me wishes I could have changed things or take things back or do things differently, but what’s the point? And the other part of me knows that I’d probably be a weaker person had things not gone the way they did.

Tears are falling as I write this and I am going to be honest with myself and admit that I feel like I do hold some sadness since my sister was able to pick up her life and move on from my parents and yet I’m here-- alone, to pick up the pieces. I really do have no one. I really do still want to die. I really do wonder if this will be my last Christmas here, both physically and metaphorically. Whether that means in the sense of me moving into a new city and I will have a new zipcode/address/name.... and if there’s a next time, I’ll be here only as a visitor instead of resident. This could also mean otherwise as well... I guess we’ll see.

Guilt, is what I really feel. I wish I could have been a better daughter, a better sister, a better friend, and a better person. I wish I could have been more lovable. Maybe that’s why I try to spoil my friends and support them as much as I can now, because I know I wasn’t the best person in the past. I was [and am] so f*cked up. Not that everyone has to have a “purpose” because people should just exist and try to be happy and everyone has a right to be happy; it doesn’t have to be anything more than that. But d*mn, I really do wish I mattered to someone and had some sort of positive help towards someone else... I really do wish that I mattered to myself.