When I was a little kid,
I was afraid of Santa.
Of course I believed in him, what kid wouldn’t.
I guess I just thought it was creepy that some old man would break into my house
and leave me gifts underneath a tree.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved the gifts.
I just always thought it was weird that Santa had the same handwriting as my mom...
Or we had the same wrapping paper as Santa...
Now that I am older,
I realize that Christmas isn’t always a good time.
Sure,
We get the chocolate and the food,
We get to see and talk to family we haven’t seen in ages,
But we’ve lost loved ones,
Families have been split,
Christmas just doesn’t have that same magic anymore,
or the feeling in your stomach when you wake up on christmas morning.
Pointing out gifts under the tree like constellations in the sky
The mystery in whats inside the paper baffles our small minds,
until the gift is in my hands,
The magic just isn’t there.
Frankly,
I would do anything to have that feeling I had on Christmas morning when I was younger.
Not a worry in the world.
All of the toys were awesome,
and I didn’t really have to get gifts for anyone else,
Of course I miss Christmas the way it used to be,
Except getting up at like 5am, I’m pretty sick of that.
Christmas with only two guys in the house is pretty interesting now.
Our nights are usually spent eating chicken wings and listening to loud Rock ‘n Roll,
But with how things are now without the magic,
I wouldn’t want it any other way.