Just Some Pathetic Thoughts

August 6th, 2017

The rain patters on my window softly while I gaze out at the world. Moving on like always. Never stopping. The grey sky above seems to be the only thing that understands me. With tumbling swirls of clouds and howling winds and drops falling like tears, I feel like the sky and I are one and the same. The storm outside matches the storm inside me. But at least the one outside will subside. Who knows if mine will.

Downstairs I hear the rustle and bustle of my mom as she prepares the ham for this evening's feast. My little sister is probably right at her heals trying to get involved with whatever she can. My dad's in his office... again. Not even on Christmas does he get a break. My other sister is on the couch with her boyfriend of 10 months, her legs swung across his lap and her arm draped around his neck. The heart shaped necklace he got her dangles from her neck and the shimmer almost matches the sparkle in her smile. She gets to be with the one that makes her happy on this holiday. Not all people get that luxury.

Cars begin rolling down the street, windshield wipers moving back and forth and back and forth across the window, and the headlights cause the rain to glisten as it falls to the earth, resembling pixie dust floating through the air. Car doors slam matching the sounds of the far away thunder that haunts us today and I see family members hurrying out of their cars with gifts overflowing their arms so much they can't even keep hold of an umbrella. They look frustrated that all their pretty wrapping is getting destroyed so quickly and easily by the storm. Maybe for once someone knows how it feels to have the storm ruin something you put hard effort into.

As people ring the doorbell and I hear the fake laughter of everyone greeting each other and wishing each other happy holiday's, all I can think about is the one person who I know will not be here today. I hear my sister's boyfriend introducing himself to the family members he has never met, and reminding those who he has.

Through all the cheerful festivities consuming the downstairs room, the rain is what I can hear the most. Even the soft pitter patter on the window makes just loud enough a sound to drown out all of downstairs. I picture what different a time this might be if he was here with me. If he was the one sitting on the couch with my legs swung across his lap, with my arm draped around his shoulders and a heart shaped necklace dangling from my neck. How would it be to have the shimmer of the necklace match the sparkle in my smile, which only sparkles for him. How would it be different to be the one introducing my family to him, and him having to remind those who he's already met.

How would this season have been different if he was there to hold the string of light up while I secured them? Or to lift me up on his shoulders to reach the tallest branch on the tree? Or to squirt icing on my face as we laugh together and let out sugar-covered lips touch, making a mess of colors that were supposed to be smeared across cookies?

How would it be different if he was the one who helped my dad lug the tree in from off the top of the car? Or helped my mom to prepare the dinner? Or brought my sister to meet Santa at the mall?

How would it feel to have his presence here today, under the mistletoe, rather than me spending it alone, next to this raindrop stained window, imagining what could've been?