Once a year

Written By Sylvia Drop.

Once a year I allow myself to remember you.

Once a year I allow myself to dream how it would be.

Just this once, because, let’s face it… it’s Christmas, darling.

And I can’t help but drown in our memories – just this once I’ll tell you. All year round I’m strict and forbid myself to even think of you. No tears, no thoughts, no memories. All safely locked away. All year round you’re just an asshole that hurt my heart and I accept that.

But for a few moments, a couple of hours maybe… I indulge. I walk along memory lane and let myself fall deep in this melancholy, the one your memory causes. Because, that’s all you are now, you know? Just a memory. I’m never gonna see you again.

And this is the only time of year that I accept the truth; it makes me sad, knowing I won’t see you again.

Remember our Christmas? It was our first and last. It was the reason we were together, because you wanted us to have Christmas together; the tree, the sweets we messed up together, that one amazing night by the fireplace that we made love and I watched the fire mirror in your eyes.

You did love me that night. You weren’t thinking of anyone else. You were there mind, body and soul, I felt it, it was just this once that I felt it, but I did. And I really let myself believe that maybe, after all, we would end up together. That you could move on.

But you didn’t.

And as soon as Christmas was over, along with our first year anniversary, you ran away. And came back and ran again. And I stupidly kept believing you, because I wanted to live another Christmas with you. More happy and true, because, apart from that one night, you were never really there, darling.

We actually never had our Christmas, did you ever realize that? I was all alone, you were just a dummy, you mind traveling somewhere else, not really seeing the little elf that was chirping happily around you. It just took me a while to realize.

I wish I knew if, around this time of year, maybe you think a bit about me too. If, for a just a brief moment, your mind leaves your body and travels near me, wondering how would it be if we spent our Christmas together. If, deep inside, you still wonder if you made the right choice.

It doesn’t matter, of course. It’s not that I love you, or that I would ever allow you to come back into my life. These are just life’s unanswered questions, the ones that pop up in my head, these moments that I think of you.

And now they’re over. That was it. I’m ready to lock my box again and it won’t open for an entire year again – oh, just one more thing before I lock it, though; Μerry Christmas, dear.

You see, for this brief second, I really wish for you to be happy. There’s still some precious glimpses of our past that remain untainted by your betrayal – clearly because my heart won’t let them get dirty. Due to these things, and only these, I hope you’re happy. Merry Christmas.