Christmas is officially over in 20 minutes. To be completely honest, I've been sad this holiday season. Christmas Eve has always been my VERY favorite day of the year. My entire family gets together, my dad cooks amazing food, and everyone has always seemed... happy. With everything that's been going on, I couldn't help but feel angry at the obstacles surrounding us, and I could feel the resentment building towards, well, just about everyone. Every happy couple on the street, every one of my friends having a "normal" holiday. I found Christmas music to be either extremely depressing or obnoxious ("It's the most wonderful time of the year!" -- yea buddy, speak for yourself.) Yes, I was happy that Jonathan's mental status had improved and that he'd been himself. . . but he just wasn't up for Christmas Eve. He was still having a hard time walking and maneuvering up and down steps. The two weeks in bed had really taken a toll on his body strength-wise.
As much as I enjoyed being with my family, it didn't feel right being at my grandmother's for Christmas Eve without him. It hurt to not have him with me, and it felt like such a letdown. All the Christmas magic I had believed in for my 25 years that was found on Christmas Eve, seemed strangely naive. My fiance was home, missing everything, and I was with my family opening presents, while missing him. My heart ached. I've worked Christmases in the past. I know that people don't always have a "special" Christmas. How naive was I, to think Christmas Eve would stay magical for me? It all seemed so silly. Jon was able to make it to a low-key Christmas day dinner at my parents' house, which was really nice. It took a lot of effort on his part, and I appreciated having him there.
On the car ride home, I looked over at the passenger seat and saw Jon falling asleep. The night before as I drove home from the Christmas Eve festivities, it had hurt to see the empty seat beside me. Tonight, I smiled at the mere fact that he was next to me. Suddenly, it hit me. I was being SUCH a brat. Jon was next to me. Less than two weeks ago, I was crying about him being "gone" and praying to have him back. And this week, just because things were still difficult, I ignored the fact that that wish HAD COME TRUE. He's Jonathan. He's next to me as I write this, watching the NBA.
It was so easy to lose perspective. Standing in Midtown alone the other night while I did last minute holiday errands, watching couple after couple walk to see the tree, hand in hand, not realizing what simple things could so easily be taken away from them. My anger had given me tunnel vision. Granted, I can't be positive all the time... it's impossible.. but let's look at the straight facts. Things could be easier, yes, that's true. But they could be SO much worse. And honestly, when given the choice, easy or Jonathan, I'd pick Jonathan EVERY time. No matter what.
This might not make sense to everyone who reads this. But it's crystal clear to me. As little control as we have over who/when/where we fall in love, continuing to truly love someone is a choice. A choice that's made over and over again, day after day, obstacle after obstacle. It's work. . . with the greatest reward. I'm embarrassed that for a few days, I forgot that. Growing up may mean recognizing that December 24 and 25 doesn't automatically equal magical days, but it also means recognizing the magic in every moment. My Jonathan is with me... that makes every single day magical, and makes me complete. <3
"Unless you love someone, nothing else makes sense." -- e.e. cummings