Not on my worst enemy.

And other than myself, I know who mine is, and I’d even spare her.

I wish this on no-one.

Not the wrenching, the needing, the yearning or the pain.

 

You’ll argue I have my husband, I have my daughter, and for that I am thankful.

But I didn’t want gifts, I didn’t even care for cards. All I want is my home. My boy.

We three opened his presents and he was so thankful, and excited and I wanted it to last forever. He is such hard work, but is he ever the apple of my eye. The house is so quiet, and I am bleeding all over it, with tears, from the heart.

I want to visit my dad. I want to raid his cupboards for things to eat and push the dogs away as they try to lick my face. I want to mock-bully my youngest brother who I wish I knew more, that I wish I had shown I love, more. I want to watch my step-mum roll her eyes at another comment my dad makes about ‘doing everything’, as she makes his tea and he sits with the Sonos on. And I want so much for her to hug me when I cry, or I laugh, or just because. I want to kiss my dad on the cheek when I leave, then watch him watching me as I drive away.

I want to search for open supermarkets on boxing day with my oldest of two brothers, ending up at mc donalds. I want to talk politics, and debate the EU feverishly with our grandparents, where I’ll come off worst, but be smug anyway. I want to play-punch him, so I can admire his strength in secret when he hits me back. I want to catch him out when he says a word wrong and visa versa, because thats always the most fun. Mostly I want to hug him, really hug him, because I never did it enough before.

My mum, ah my bloody mum. I miss you the most, mother. I want to sit with my mum and drink coffee, pouring over bad magazines and talking about how ‘fat’ we are. I want to watch Jeremy Kyle with Becki (she’s a dog!) on my knee and in my face, while taking the piss out of John for being old (who, bless him, will stand it). I want us to have our usual grumbles about everything, and everyone and to be ourselves because we truly only can be with one another. I want to dance, and drink, and dance, and laugh. Oh laugh, so much our sides hurt. And we are hugging, and we are spinning on the theatre dance floor -t he music hurting our ears. Everyone is staring at us, thinking we are crazy, and for that moment we are in our fucking element. 

My nannan and grandad, how will I ever articulate how I love them and miss them. Like a second set of parents, they are my go-to. My nannan is my rock, she is my friend, and my enemy. She is the reason I am so eager to go back, beyond anyone else. I want to see my nannan, to see her alive, with my own eyes. I miss the smokey smell of her house, and the way she shoved a fiver at me every time I went. I miss the chips and egg she’d make, and the whole-fat milk in my cups of coffee. I miss the butterknife with the yellow handles, and the round blade. She wrote me letters, and they smell of her house. I miss my grandad and the conversations about everything, and nothing, that we would have with one another. He is always silently proud of me, and that makes me so happy. He knows whats best, always, and he is reliable, and kind and everything I would have ever dreamed of in a Grandfather. He is a real hero, to me.

But for now I will take solace in my daughter. My beautiful daughter that I have such a special, strong bond with. The same daughter that I spend every waking moment with, that I adore with every fibre of me. The daughter I fought against the odds to keep. When everyone said she was a bad idea, when everyone told me I was taking a step backwards. She is my favourite ‘mistake’ and my most delightful ‘accident’.

And my husband. My loyal, but sometimes misguided husband. The one who looks into the dark at night for the answers, with heaving sighs that I can’t find the right words to comfort. Who’s hand I search for in the small hours. Who each day feels more like a stranger. He might not be my husband forever and he might not believe it today.. On Christmas eve as we sit in separate rooms in silence, but I  love him. And I wish he knew that I wished I could just make him happy, today more than ever. 

Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night. 

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