the season of giving

I am thinking about you. I am thinking about me. It’s that time of year. The time when the ghosts of christmas’ past resurrect themselves and quietly take up residence in my empty spaces.

Thankfully, there are too many to fill.

At least I don’t flinch at the phone ringing anymore. I think I finally understand what is meant by “I have nothing to give”. I’ve spent years reflecting on that statement. The conclusion I always came to was …”just to me, you have nothing to give.” I know better what that looks like now. And, maybe, I also understand that everyone can get to a place where there is nothing left inside to share. I really do understand now. Thank you.

I don’t think it’s any being less of a real person but I see how it might look from the outside. Inside, is brimming with feelings, ideas and possibility. There’s never been much that showed on the outside anyway, except the anger. Temper one emotion and they all get censored I suspect.

I don’t know what else to do with myself. There’s no way to be more than I am and no way to give what is not there to give. It’s no secret that emotions are often confusing and there seems to be no getting around it ever.

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