Home for Christmas

Home.

Home reminds me of so much that I look back on with regret.  I look at the chamber of computer games through the cupboards wondering what right minded person thought all of these were necessary.  I see the components all on standby, or the TV being ignored, and despite at the fate of our planet.  I see the shattered dreams of broken promises – the guitar I got for my brother he has barely touched, the smoky, ash-filled chamber of our conservatory, and the saddening routine of sofa positions my mum sits after another hard day working for the council.

This isn’t life.  This isn’t what human beings should be all about.

And yes, it is loving, warm, safe.  But it is all tainted beauty, troubled by imperfections and not striving to be the best and it brings out the worst in me and everyone else.  I have to leave the house at least once a day just to make myself feel sane and remind myself there is a world outside those doors.

It’s why I left – and in fact the entire area around in this lovely yet wasteland-like town of Rochdale only speaks out about the imperfections.  This just is not a pleasant place to be, and frankly, my heart depresses flying over from Sweden to the UK each time.  The deep reds and browns of our lifeless, tired estates sprawl monotonously across the city landscape, whereas seeing the lush snow white across the entire of Sweden, with pockets of water and forest, always gives me a reassuring piece of mind that I did the right thing in moving out there.

And this night makes me wonder about how amazing a Christmas can be.  Gets me thinking idyllically about that a snow capped Swedish countryside cottage that is also warm, loving and safe.  But differently, we think about the outside world.  We have developed relationships at Christmas that require more than a Christmas card that I scruff through the door at 21:00 on Christmas Eve – but those of neighbours and friends that actually do want to celebrate.  One that is exciting, honest, and built around that we can all have fun together.

Of course, one thing all of my family lack at the moment are children.  And of course, children do make the season.  Perhaps this is just a little rant at the sadness I have in feeling it is all a little bit forced now, when otherwise it would be so natural and exciting.  Who knows?  I can’t wait for that opportunity, assuming all of life’s remaining hurdles fall in place.

I think the main thing is though here, is that we share so little common interests.  We don’t horrendously enjoy the company of each other.  I love these guys to bits, and get on with everybody – but there is a limit to it.  Being in this home for too long drains the meaning of life out of me.  This is a desolate and lonely place and I feel for my little brother who needs to break free in order to do what 19 year old boys need to do.

However, tomorrow excites me.  I’m excited about presents, I’m excited about food and I’m excited about the good times.  I value it; I am not at all ungrateful.  In fact, more than anything I realise just how lucky I am to see the bigger picture, and how much I feel I need to set a good example to all in the future.  This break has been the reflection time I have needed and tomorrow I will put on a good shirt, join the family and do my darnedest to have a whale of a time.  It’s not all doom and gloom here you know, and I want to make sure you understand that.

Merry Christmas all!

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