“𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆?” I think to myself. Anxiously waiting by my phone hoping to hear a ring...to hear his voice.
As the hours pass by, the hope dissipates and my answer is clear. He isn’t going to call me.
A harsh reality I have to accept every single year.
This holiday is terribly triggering. The absence of my father brings heartache and pain and resentment and frustration and all these unresolved questions I’ve been pondering for years now.
As I sit here on my very first Christmas in complete solitude—the loneliness is weighing heavy on me. Not necessarily because I’m isolated, but because there are no distractions to keep my head space preoccupied.
I’m alone and being alone opens up more space to think about him. I’m not just thinking about him calling, I’m thinking about everything that involves him. I’ve been crying on and off—which isn’t unusual for me—but it’s more tears than usual.
It really fucking hurts.
I share this because this holiday might be hard for you, too. I know there’s nothing I could possibly say to take the pain away, but I do want you to know you’re not alone.
I see you. I feel you. I understand how hard this day can be for you. It’s not going to feel okay, and that is okay. Your experience and your feelings are completely valid.
I love you. I’m here for you if you need me.