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Thursday, December 27, 2007

Focusing On The Fire ...

Christmas eve was horrible. I had to work. Usually Julia gives me Christmas eve off because I have a wife and two kids and she's sympathetic to that. But she's managing two stores now and she's spread thin and I had to work Christmas eve. It was horrible and stressful and loud and crazy and when the angry buff mexican dad almost beat up the white yuppie dad with me in between the two of them, all I could think of was being at home with my wife and kids.

When I got home we cleaned up a bit, turned on the cool christmas music (Eels, John Lennon, Elvis, ect.) made hot chocolate and then put on a fire in the fireplace. We were going to follow that with a family viewing of A Charlie Brown Christmas but Natasha had to go next door for one reason or another, so it was just me and the girls. Emerald, Isabela and I sat down in front of a nice warm fireplace and didn't say a damn thing. We just sat there and held each other and told each other how much we were in love and just relaxed and felt the warmth. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Sinatra saying he's dreaming of a white christmas. It was peaceful and relaxing and all the stress and depression and anger and doubt that built up in me since November just melted away and disappeared. It was just me and my darling daughters feeling the utter joy and peace that is Christmas, actual honest to god Christmas. And it felt amazing.

Now I'm alone in this dirty ass house taking care of my two crazy girls while Natasha spends two days in San Francisco with her friend. I feel sad and lonely and depressed and paranoid all to fuck. I don't know how to feel or how to act. I'm trying to focus on the kids and play with them and have fun with them but my mind wanders. I can't stay still. I'm worried that I'm losing everything and that everything I've worked so hard trying to build could all just fall in one second.

I'm trying to focus on the fire, on that fleeting feeling of perfect bliss and warmth. It felt nice. It felt normal. It felt Norman fucking Rockwell. I'm trying so goddamn hard to think about the fire and wishing I could somehow be there again.

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