You Are My Christmas Wish

I wish upon North Star, unfazed by its dazzling beauty because all I can dream about is you. As the long nights become awash in a sea of color and light and the sky veils the world in a feathery layer of frost, I long for your heart to return to mine, your soul to lift mine, your body to touch mine.

I pray to discover you under the pine, nestled amid a heap of impeccably wrapped presents enshrouded in reds and golds. I long to feel a swell of childlike enthusiasm as we meet again, giddily embracing you as my heart pounds in my chest and my soul soars, spinning around the tree with you as I marvel over the simple beauty of our love.

I dream that the stars will align and deliver you back to me like a gift forgotten, a cherished piece of my heart I’ve missed far too long. I wish that you would casually stride into my life with an infectious charm and an easy smile as my inhibitions escape me. I long to leap into your strong arms, wrapping mine around you as if you were a gift I could never relinquish, kissing you as if you the world has fallen away and all that is left is you.

But you remain a Christmas wish, a figment of holiday spirit I will hold in my soft heart until I can hold you again.

I refuse to awaken from the dream that tints my peaceful slumbers with shades of ruby and emerald. I struggle to accept that you race through my wild musings untamed, frantically corybantic as you unsolicitedly capture my heart across the oceans. I savor you from afar, relishing in every moment you remain nestled in the deepest reaches of my mind, but I long for you to arrive at midnight, our hearts beating as one as we reunite.

You are my Christmas wish, a lusting, longing, passionate burning that can never escape my heart’s deepest recesses. One day, you will arrive under the pine, nestled amid a tangle of tinsel doused in silvers and golds. But for now, I wish upon the North Star, praying that its crest of light, stunningly serene against the midnight sky, will guide you back to me. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Kelly Douglas

Lives for red lipstick, high heels, 80’s pop, cats, and Oxford commas.