Christmas

My lips are dry. My hand is healing. My writing is just an excuse so just time doesn’t feel like a punch in my stomach. I am cold. It’s a bitter day. I lost it. I finally understood that.

She says: you have to let it go. I say: how?

I’ve read your e-mail and I have remained calm. There isn’t much I can do anymore.

I think about my family. I talked to my brother about them and about us. I feel like we both are a miracle. I think about my grandparents and their lives.

All of a sudden, I realize it’s gone.

Have I ever told you that I don’t like Christmas anymore? At least I have sweaters for my dog nieces. I bet they’re going to be happy.