Sometimes, the holidays hurt.
Sometimes the holidays don’t greet you with warmth and with the beauty of new beginnings. Sometimes they don’t greet you with the feeling of safety most find in warm blankets on snow days, or string lights on city streets.
For some people, the holidays are painful. For some people, the holidays dig up the damage, they inspire loneliness.
See, for some people, the holidays remind them — of the people who left, of the choices they made over the last year, of the mistakes they walked into. For some people, the holidays remind them that they will have to live another year without their father, without their mother. For some people, the holidays remind them that they may not have accomplished everything they wanted to, that they let their minds get the best of them, that they sold themselves short.
For some people, the holidays are confusing. For some people, trying to be happy just doesn’t cut it. They aren’t, and it’s confusing and heart-wrenching to feel such loneliness when everyone around you is moving in slow motion, their contented smiles plastered across their faces, their family dinners filled with laughter and hope. For some people, there is nothing more discouraging than trying to feel something you just don’t feel; there is nothing more disheartening than wanting to be carefree and healed like the others.
For some people the holidays are empty. Some people won’t have festive photos plastered all over their Facebook or their social media. Some people won’t have anywhere to go to celebrate, anyone to buy presents for. Some people will be in mourning, some people will have grief hanging on their Christmas trees, reminders of broken hearts or broken families. Some people won’t travel home to surprise their loved ones.
To some people, December is just December. To some people — the holidays hurt.