her girlfriend.

seventy-three

Christmas sucks. It really does. I mean, all that shit about god and jesus being born is something but everything else is shit.

I still don't get why kids like the idea of a creepy, old white man crawling in their house at night and eating their cookies but that's not why.

What I'm pissed about is that I'm woken up on the morning of christmas eve after having a nightmare. A nightmare on christmas. Life hates me.

It's been one-hundred-percent confirmed that life fucking hates me now that I've had a damn nightmare on christmas. That's fucked up.

I'm ok, now. At least. I'm not crying anymore and I'm not shaking or screaming or anything. Just trying to stay calm.

Not fucking punch a hole in the wall. That's how mad I am at life right now and I don't care. Life sucks for me.

I know shouldn't be saying that, though. I mean, look. It sucks and all but life did give me the woman who's here through all this. Sabrina.

"I-I d-d-don't-- " it's hard for me to speak without stuttering now, even more so after this, "I d-don't know what I-I'd do without you."

"You got me for life, baby." she chuckles but inside, I can see how upset she is that I have to go through this.

"Can we-- I mean, I-I don't want to r-ruin c-c-christmas." I stutter and try my hardest to use whatever energy I have to lift myself up.

Sabrina's memorizing blue eyes fill with concern. "No, River, it's ok. It's only eight in the morning, you need to recover for a bit, love."

Recovering. It's what I've been doing for what? Ten years. I'm so sick of just laying here and letting all my problems consume me.

But there's nothing anyone can do. There's no cute for nightmares, no cure for autism, no cure anxiety. I'm trapped. I'm stuck like this.

If I could actually get one christmas gift then I think that it would be for me to not have that shit. To be normal.

That isn't possible, though, and that's why christmas sucks. It doesn't suck too, too bad now that I'm surrounded by love but it's still bad.

•••

Sure, I had a nightmare about the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to me and almost drove me to suicide later in life. It's okay, though.

It's christmas eve. I'm fine. These nightmares ain't got nothing on me. Well, they do but not much. I won't allow that right now.

Already ruined thanksgiving with my issues but christmas, hell no. I ain't ruining that because of stupid nightmare. I'm fine, it's fine.

"Alright, tomorrow. I want us both up by nine, at the latest. I have to go pick something up at eight so you be awake, ok?"

Another thing I hate about this holiday is all the sneaking around for gifts and shit. It stresses me the fuck out.

Gifts aren't necessary, either. Like we don't need them. Let's just celebrate the fact that we're alive and able to be here together.

I probably wouldn't be saying that if my gift to her wasn't complete and utter trash but it is so whatever. Gifts are fucking stupid.