Holidays, Christmas especially, make me miss what used to be. Being too excited to sleep on Christmas Eve, waiting until you could wake your parents to see if Santa had come. The sheer joy when you saw that he did. The magical feeling in the air where strangers wished each other “Merry Christmas” and everyone seemed a little nicer to each other.
Now that I’m older, the magic has been replaced by cynicism, regrettably. I was always in such a hurry to grow up, but now that I have I find myself wanting, more than anything, to be a kid again. I hope that someday I may have children of my own and can feel again some of that joyful magic through them.
Well, that was morose. I guess that’s what I get for listening to sad songs on repeat while I write. Merry Christmas, everyone.