the shepherd's sword

fa la la frickin' la

there was a little cabin where we always argued about hot, caffeinated drinks and pretended we were forever.

at the time, i hated coffee, and you hated hot chocolate. now, i live off of coffee and can barely stomach hot chocolate, and i think i have you to thank for that.

since the night i decided that you were drowning me, and you had been drowning me for the past five years, i can't put up a christmas tree. i tried this year, i really did; i got the box out of my closet and sat it in the floor for later. it's christmas eve and it's still laying in the same spot. i tell people that love christmas, and i suppose part of me still does, but i can't relish in it like i used to.

do you remember the little cabin? i'm sure you do. the one by the little stream, seated amongst the hills? we always made sure to decorate it for christmas. we cut down a little tree and set it up, and we strung popcorn and berries and took the lights off the walls to put on it, and we sang a silly version of "o christmas tree" the entire time we worked. and when we were finished, i'd say, "looks good to me," and you'd say, "yes ma'am, it does," even though you were older than me. i guess we were stupid, but i didn't feel stupid when i was with you.

this is the first time i've discussed the cabin in a long time. maybe, despite the fact that you took whatever altar we might have had and broke it over you knee, i thought that place was somehow sacred. ours and only ours, forever. but increasingly i realize that nothing matters in the end.

i hate you. i hate you for not allowing me to fully enjoy the holidays, despite the fact that i ripped you from the rib to which you'd attached yourself and threw you far, far away. over the mountains we climbed because it made us feel like rulers and royals and something even greater. through the forests we got lost in trying to find ourselves. into the lakes we swam in pretending that we didn't want to sink to the bottom.

the first time it snows, i just know i'll cry. and they'll be asking me why.

how do i explain something i don't fully understand myself?