The Holiday Blues

It was the holiday season.

The holidays were always a strange time for me: every time they came around I always came down with a special kind of blues.

I felt more depressed, more beaten than my usual self, like all of life had been sucked out of me.

I never understood the buzz and cheer of the holiday season simply because I never experienced it. It was all grim and dark for me during that period but at least it didn’t hurt my writing. On the contrary, I found myself investing more in my writing during that time.

There was something about it, something about the people, the air, the decorations, the songs…that just stirred my insides and made me spit out that acid filling in my gut and lay it down on the paper in front of me.

***

Today is just another holiday. It’s cold and frosty outside my room window.

I can hear the people caroling, chanting, screaming, spreading the joy while the bustling cars honk and blink violently as they slide along the roads.

I’ve just made myself a cup of coffee and started on a new piece. It’s a short – no, a poem I’m working on.

I hear the front door slam. Footsteps stomping like rabid bulls in an open field. Things smashing and falling and breaking in the house.

Jana, my girlfriend, walks in on me.

She looks crazy with a bad hairdo and a couple of eyes bulging out of their sockets. She’s snarling, her teeth are gritting and she looks like she’s about to breathe fire.

I look at her for a minute, pause, examine her from top to bottom, and get back to my poem.

‘Where were you today?’ she asks.

I keep writing.

‘You went out to see her again, didn’t you?’

‘She was sick. She had fever.’

‘AND YOU WENT OUT TO TAKE CARE OF HER!?!’

She grabs a box of tissues and throws it at me. The box glides over my head and hits the wall behind me.

‘Yes, I went there to look after her. I couldn’t leave her alone like this.’

‘HOW LONG ARE YOU GONNA KEEP DOING THIS, HUH?!? LOOKING AFTER SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT YOU! WHAT ABOUT ME, I’M THE ONE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO TAKE CARE OF! I’M THE ONE YOU SHOULD LOVE AND LOOK AFTER! I’M YOUR BLOODY GIRLFRIEND!’

A moment of silence. I hold my pen in mid-air and feel my right arm suddenly freezing on top of the paper.

‘Yes, you are my girlfriend. But I can’t leave her.’

Her anger starts acting up again.

‘YOU STILL LOVE HER, DON’T YOU? ADMIT IT! YOU STILL LOVE HER!’

‘I didn’t want to leave her alone. She was sick.’

‘THAT’S IT! I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! YOU CAN HAVE THAT LITTLE BITCH! I’M DONE! I’M LEAVING YOU!
I HOPE YOU BOTH BURN IN HELL!!!’

She explodes in tears, starts kneeling, turning, looking around, grabbing some of her stuff, and then some random stuff from the house, packing them in large trash bags, screaming and cursing as she passes through every room of the house.

I watch her move around the house like a crazy person, collecting her stuff and filling her bags randomly before finally stopping at the front door. I follow her there and keep some distance from her.

She opens the door, looks at me with her sharp eyes, and says, ‘I hope you die, you fucker.’

She leaves, slamming the door behind her, causing the entire house to shake.

Another one has left.

I find myself in a familiar position: alone on the holidays with the cold brewing outside and a big half-empty house all to myself.

At this point, I’m not so sure if the problem is with me or with all these women.

But, I’ve managed to drive another crazy girl away and that’s as close to a holiday miracle as I could’ve hoped for.

At least now, I have something worthwhile to write about.

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