Christmas. It has passed and I am still breathing. Thank God. Waking up Christmas Eve, I really didn't think I was going to survive it. But I did.
I spent it alone. Which, by the way, I have done a lot over the past few years. But this year, I wasn't worried about poor fucktard, all alone and sad on Christmas. I doubt he was alone-back then or now. I doubt he gave me a second thought-back then or now. That says tons about him and nothing about me. I wasn't under the weight of his never ending lies this year. I slept most of the day. Binge watched Homeland and nursed a cold.
And I didn't cry one time. Didn't squirt a single tear. I slept-like a dang baby, snuggled up with my dog and my fake fireplace.
And I survived.
Next year, maybe I will more than survive. I hope so....
