My thoughts on everything are just that. Blank spaces.
We took a trip to Las Vegas a few weeks ago. Aside from a couple good meals, all I looked forward to was getting home. Saturday night was spent in the hotel room. 5:30 on a Saturday night. On the Las Vegas strip. And I’m watching movies on my iPad. Blank.
Our annual Thanksgiving camping trip? Blank. It was neither fun or boring. Mostly the same faces. Same weather. Same food. For some in our group, it was a trip of “first times.” Not even the addition of my sister, brother in law & nephew made a difference in my overall feelings. When it was over, it only felt routine. Drive. Set up. Eat, drink, clean up. Drive home.
The upcoming Christmas holiday? Blank. I don’t care to send out greeting cards. What could I possibly say about our last year that hasn’t been said the last several years? “Here’s another photo of our dogs, but we wish everyone a Merry Christmas.” Or, “Happy Birthday to Christ, who has done many great things for lots of people but chooses to bury some dreams so deep in our hearts and never fulfill them?” I’ve opened zero cards sent to us, where I used to display them in our entryway. I’m not even curious about them because I already know they are photos of everyone else’s families over the course of another year.
I don’t care to decorate the house – something I’ve done for years. As a college student with tinsel & beer tabs, a 20-something year old with Dollar Store finds and even after my first marriage ended in shreds, I would venture out on my own, put a tree in the trunk of my car, blast the Christmas music and decorate the whole house in my Pj’s.
This year, I bought a smaller, “table top” tree at a nursery and a vintage tin pail I found at the antique shop in town….a look I found on Pinterest. I forced myself to make the purchases in a conscious effort to get in the spirit. And yet a week later, the tree sits in the corner of the family room, no decor, barely watered. Blank.
I do not look forward to gatherings, gift exchanges or sweet holiday movies. Because MY life doesn’t end like those movies do. I am exhausted of faking a smile. I have a sweet, strong, loving husband and a cozy home. And yet, I cannot recall the last time I felt happiness. The last time I laughed from my core in sheer joy.
I am full of sadness, broken pieces and of fear that what’s left for me in this life will not be quite enough. I am full of blank space.