As I type this, it does not feel like Christmas.
It may be fifty degrees outside, but the sun is glaring down onto the pavement.
The house may be smelling of pine trees and vanilla, but that’s only thanks to the candles that my sister has been obsessed with lighting lately- not the cookies we used to bake every year.
There may have been presents under the tree waiting to be unwrapped, but I don’t feel like I used to in elementary and middle school when it comes down to opening them. It used to be about getting to what was inside those folds of paper; now it’s more like I don’t want to see because seeing would mean that yet another Christmas has come and will pass. Continue reading