I think of the last Christmas I was in love and I was basically still quite a young kid. Twenty fucking three. Lord. And my ex was a bit older. But Ideal. Mother fucker. The reason this came up was because in Reflection.....the literal version....his best friend used to say "he cannot pass any shiny or somewhat reflective surface without looking at his reflection" So in this season of mirror-y shine and glitz and basically everything reflecting back at you.... I think of him and laugh....or cry. Both? Depends on the day and medication or intoxication level.
Mom still has the william senoma paper towel holder we bought her...and as lame as that sounds it is actually one I have been trying to find for myself since then. Really chic. If you can imagine. And I still have the cashmere sweater he bought me. I tried to get rid of it...alot...but it fits too well and looks too good.....Here is a tip if you'd like to torture whomever you love when they leave you down the road. BUY GOOD GIFTS. PAINFULLY GOOD GIFTS..... Ones they can't throw away because they are too good. And buy their families good gifts so they won't throw them out. That way they will be tortured by you forever. Merry Christmas. For years Mom hung the God damned hand painted glass ornament he gave her....even though it stabbed me in the heart and I expressed that. But her christmas tree was what she waited for all year and she couldn't not have that gorgeous ornament...that piece of art not on her beloved tree. REALLY. I mean the tree was more important than my mental health. Thank GOD she dropped it last year and it shattered and never have to see the fucking thing again. She, however, still brings it up. "What a shame that gorgeous ornament ______ gave you broke. It was soo lovely. It is not enough to not see it....now it is fucking yearly conversation. Turn the knife. My Mother.
Only really great gift I gave (besides goyard luggage...) was a recording of YOUR SONG to an ex later in life... totally unworthy of getting a CD of the The Thong Song let alone YOUR SONG. Though I think me recording a version of thong song is actually a hilllllarious idea. anyway I recorded YOUR SONG for the waste of breath and had the alarm set on his birthday to have it go off to wake him....as it was "our song" as the first moment of his birthday. I think I just vomited in my mouth thinking of the sacrifice I made to get the money to record it. I was working for ten dollars an hour and struggling to eat...skipped meals...for months...to save the money to get into a studio to do this. Anyway. I wanted to be slick and learn the lesson from my first love....and leave that gift to torture him....but couldn't.... upon leaving took a hammer to the CD and beat the shit out of it until unrecognizable.
Anyway. Back to Christmas...And having your first love be your only love tends to suck. To remember yearly waking up on christmas morning and have that person not in bed but laughing with your mom and dad having coffee by the tree. I mean it could be out of a fucking christmas movie on lifetime....well...logo...it would have to be the faggot version. "Gay Holiday"
So left with the memories of ten years ago. And the few relationships I have had since then can only kindly be compared to abortions. Or suicide bombings. Something like those but alot longer and drawn out. And with a worse ending. LOL worse endings than death. That is not good. I have not made good choices. Obviously.
But then again there is that memory of the perfect man. The perfect holiday. Even if it is the only one I may have in that way.
We even went to a wedding over that holiday. He went as my date in my hometown. That alone was enough to give a good dozen heart attacks in an evening. It was a huge goooorgeous wedding of a dear friend whom I love to this day. She didn't even think twice about me bringing him. But she isn't the expected idiot bigot. She and I sang on the beach after her rehearsal dinner around a fire. She to this day is one of the coolest strongest people I know. And it is a testament to her at that time she had not one moment of hesitation about it. I saw everyone from highschool and didn't care then nor really do now what they thought about any of it. I was soo in love. Attending things like that with someone you are truly in love with is the best. Attending them alone is like ripping your fingernails out emotionally. I would like to know the suicide numbers of singles attending weddings alone and seated at the sad old lady table seated next to the cousin that never got married and now smells mildly of cologne from years ago that isn't really made anymore because she gave up.
I watched him dance badly but charmingly badly....with the ladies in their glory and smile back at me. I caught him looking at me at the table. He was one of the most handsome men I have ever known. In that traditionally handsome rock hudson meets Cary Grant and Paul Newman way. If that perfect movie star handsome thing is for you. Everyone at the wedding was smitten. And he was mine. God.
We took a break from the wedding to walk outside and breathe the tropical air and two sequined and diamonded ladies of about 70 walked by and said to us "I'll take you....and She'll take you!" and we all smiled and laughed....then one of them specifically said to me "If my husband looked at me just once the way he has been looking at you all night I would be a happy woman"
It was true. I was too young to realize it wouldn't always be this way. I wouldn't always be adored and loved in this way. Glory of youth and innocence....and torture of memory.
Kind of sucks. And a lesson hard learned. Soo many dickheads to reiterate love like that may only be once. May just never happen again. We even had the same humor. He was too skinny growing up....and I was too fat. So we had to be smart and funny to get by in our youth. We didn't have anything else....we were very similar. I don't think we fought. I made up with that in years and relationships that followed....trust me.
So I sit in front of the tree at christmas. Played with my supermodel blonde God daughter. Felt my new twin niece and nephew fight threw my sister in law's stomach. Jotted down some future art projects I wanted to remember and music lyrics I needed to add....all with turkey and love and cinnamon in the air and truly know how blessed I am and amazed and grateful for all I have earned and been given. I am beyond blessed....Not even sure what that word would be.
Yet will never forget the moment I had. It lingers in the air like those smells once the meal has been eaten.
And wish I had known to savor every moment and live every second and remember every detail...and knew how rare it was.
Lesson learned.
And tonight.... Mom and Dad will sit and hold hands while we all watch a movie. And cate will cuddle up with Scott and Tara while Scott has one hand on Tara's belly and his twins to soon arrive. And I will love to see watch the beauty of it all.
But at the same time a thought will come as it does every year on this day.
Ten years
Ten years.
Ten years.
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