Christmas Wish

Dear Santa,

It’s almost Christmas, so I thought I would write to you. I’m not asking for Barbies or American Girl dolls like when I was little, for an iPod touch or a laptop, not even flannel pajama sets or a pair of heelys. What I truly want this Christmas is not material; I want something far more elusive than something can be bought at a store.

I want closure. I want to tie up the loose ends in my life, I want to be able to move on into the new year unencumbered by the things keeping me rooted in the past.

I want to be able to sit down and have an honest conversation, I want to be able to scream, cry, and yell, I want to be able to feel these feelings that remain unfelt. I do not want another undefined length of time of waiting to be heard by the people who cannot or will not hear me.

I know it’s a lot to ask, Santa, but all I want for Christmas is to be able to live on without the baggage, without the heartbreak, without the stream of disappointment when another day passes and I still cannot let go.

Elizabeth says I’m going through my stages of grief, moving on from the stage where everything hurt to becoming unbelievably angry. I’m tired of letting the anger and the frustration consume me. It’s tiring, and I only have so much energy to give. I know time is the ultimate healer, I know that in time I will stop hurting, and I will eventually accept the situation for what it is.

I am not asking for a miracle button to make everything the way I imagined it in my head, I’m not even asking you to speed up the healing process, because I know it will end. All I’m asking is for that moment, that one second of eye contact. I don’t even need to say anything to him. I just want to know for sure if the chapter is ending or if it’s not… Even though I’ve come to my own conclusions about that.

If you can do that, Santa, then I know I’ll always believe in you.


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