The one time of year magic truly fills the air, or is that just what we want to believe. Is Christmas really a special day or is all it stands for truly fake. You may think I’m taking this to a religious view point, but that’d be to predictable or cliche if you must.

The soul felt laughter, happiness and cheer produced when the temperatures drops and snow meets our fingertips, is really just something held onto. Keeping hope and passion alive in a time where everything’s bare. To the naked trees in lost of their dear leaves and to you. You’re covered head to toe, with hats scarfs and winter coats, how could you be bare? Maybe it’s to do with the soul’s very need for warmth, in a time where the sun just isn’t as hot. Is it the need for transparency in a world where people will do anything except be themselves.

Well for starters option two couldn’t be right because that issue is one embedded in society and doesn’t tarnish the name of Christmas by that of humanity as a whole. Maybe option one was the beginning to a deep conversation about the blurred lines between a humans needs and wants. But option three introduces the idea of the known and how beneficial a simple holiday without logical reasoning or NEED really is.

Children are off to school and parents are off to work. Day after day, year after year. And so the cycle of repetition continues. But the need for something bigger than oneself and ones thoughts creates an atmosphere made up of individuals in need of something meaningful. Something that doesn’t just mean opening gifts and filling plates it also gives people something they rarely ever get. It gives them expectation. If everything goes well like the Christmas spirit implies they will not need to predict the events which will take place but will look forward to something. Something so special it’s shared by people all over the world.

Something that validates you from it’s importance in society and something that fuels you.

Season’s Greetings they say. But surely the season’s greeting you.

I won’t put too much pressure on myself and expect to achieve everything I could dream of in the next ten years. I do hope to be feel accepted by myself and feel valued by my humanly worth not my success or fails. I hope to be feeling understood in a world I’ve always felt lost. I aspire to be making a difference and being a voice of the communities that aren’t given one.

You looked at me in agony and told the doctor it was time.

I felt my entire body turn warm and a few subtle tears stream down my cheeks. I held your hand tighter than I’d ever done before and could feel each of your nerves dying down one by one. I felt your warmth slowly running away and my palm chasing it. I saw relief in your face, as if this was the longest you could’ve held on for. I saw your beautifully sun kissed face turn pale and weak.

I felt my heart cry out, as if it couldn’t take the pain it had to endure. I let myself go with you. I felt as though I saw the light too, as if I crossed over into whatever afterlife you entered. I felt my life fall apart in a split second and then it happened.

The Doctor said you were gone. I felt numb. My adrenaline was pumping so fast that I couldn’t register anything that happened. I sat next to you for hours, feeling empty. I couldn’t feel your contagious excitement or overwhelming feeling of happiness.

I felt empty. I felt like you were trying to tell me something but I’d never hear it, like I couldn’t continue... I felt like I couldn’t continue life itself. Waking up everyday and knowing I’d never feel your precious touch or hear your soothing voice. It broke me. It broke me so much that I felt like my walls were shattering. Like everything was falling apart. Falling into pieces so small I’d never be able to fit it back together.

I still wake up needing you. More days than not. Everyday seems dark, and I can’t help but wonder when the sun will shine again.

Living in hope of pleasing others, for the prize of being appreciated and cared for.

Neglecting feelings and dreams that are within her, she has become an unrecognizable person.

Limiting her consumption, for the goal of society’s unrealistic standards.

Forgetting to make others opinions secondary and instead place her own there.

SHE is who they want her to be. Skinny, pretty, and smart. But still perfect seems so very far away.

She’s already run a marathon to get where they think she belongs but SHE hasn’t gotten a sense of accomplishment or comfortableness.

She runs and she runs carrying the weight of society’s limitations and opinions on her fragile back.

Will she break? Will she fall? It’s her time to decide if she’ll dismiss those possibilities and RISE.

She is who SHE pleases to be.