I've Been Looking Through Keyholes.

I drive amidst the night and though the moon is covered the road is illuminated. The air glows with neon and a familiar place I thought I knew feels foreign. But I'm almost home. Seconds away. Just one more week and we celebrate. Anticipation brought us up until today and will continue to carry us for one more week and then drop the world much like a lead balloon.

Late December always filled me with such happiness, such joy and such warmth, despite the cold weather. And I'm happy - copasetic to a point - but I don't feel the same. When did innocence leave the room? Where did youthful splendor get off and leave me? Why have sparks of excitement fizzled away leaving me just a blackened stump of a fuse?

This season has a reason.

This season has a reason.

And maybe I'm left in the wake of myself because I've realized that this holiday isn't about me and isn't about getting expensive gifts or eating delicious masses of food. It has never been about me, but I always made it that way. I reflect on a year of intense change... losing dead weight, being saved, gaining an entirely new family, a new group of friends, falling in love for basically the first time, changing my perspective on life... not to mention I grew another inch. Hah. But selflessness is finally touching down at the root of me. I'm thankful, thankful for an obscene number of things. And I want to give it all back to You!

But I can't lie - I miss the feeling; making it all about me.

And I want that broken.

I want that taken and discarded.