Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve

I hit up Crown Victoria Beer Garden in Williamsburg, dying to get out of the apartment, desperate for a dance floor. I ride my BMX through the chilly night, skirting the edge of Brooklyn avoiding most traffic. I'm freezing so I order a hot cider and kick back, nodding to the Phoenix remix and watching as Ralphie gets a mouthful of soap for one of many times over the next 24 hours.

There's a fireplace and Christmas tree, all I'm missing is someone special beside me. Once again I'm spending the holidays alone, only this year I won't let it get me down. I am single yet again, having spent too much time in my head, living out some film that obviously has way too much voice-over.

I've always wanted a Christmas scene like the flashback in Scrooged. Poor, cheap apartment, scrounged together cash for silly presents, a couple alone together. Celebrating at the beginning of a blossoming love. 

Not to dwell but it'd be good to take stock of Christmas' past. Last year I was alone. Can't even recall beyond going to Laura Lee's parents before the 25th, a weird nuclear family bonding moment. I tried to belong. I did get a singing fish...

In 2009 I was living at my ex Lauren's apartment in Soho while she was in PA. I worked at the Daily News and missed the last year my Aunt lived on Long Island, the final breath of our family holidays together.

In 2008 I was really getting depressed. Earlier in the year I had my first real heartbreak, then made a series of bad relationship choices, either fucking someone else over or fucking myself over. During Thanksgiving time I even thought that I was gay and that was the problem.

It wasn't and the solution certainly wasn't to go on Match.com, but it staved off the loneliness and I met some cool chicks. Spent Christmas night cursing and swearing as my new external hard drive kills my laptop. Everything gone.

All I wanted was to go ice skating with a sweetheart. Hold hands as we gazed upon the tree. Warmed ourselves by the fire as we cuddled closer. Exchanging heartfelt presents crafted by our own hands and love.

But wanting is almost counter-productive to receiving, or at least that's how it works for me. I don't get to have that, not yet anyways. So here I am at a hip party of the NYC/Brooklyn scene, always alone on the frayed edges. I suppose I could try harder but why force it? That never works.

With some pulled pork sliders mixing it up with a shot of whiskey and cheap beer, I write this with a destination for the next year in mind. Happy, healthy, loved, by myself foremost and by another if possible.

Enjoy your lives for what they are tonight. In the morn we'll receive a gift of another year and support of loved ones. Happy Holidays, to those who have what they want, and especially those who want more.