Left Behind

It was there, just like you said – I knew you would get it done, you always got it done. Always put up too early, always lit up with the same lights, the same colors – you did it just like you promised. The music just started playing outside, unavoidable, but comforting - it never really bothered me, and I know it didn't bother you either. I guess it isn't really the season that bothers me now, it's that you got that damn tree done like you said. I know, I know, you hate it when I say "damn," but, damnit you got it done. I didn't even hear the boxes open, or your semi-silent grunts early in the morning as the you attempt to move the last piece of holiday equipment (that's what you called it, remember?).

Anyway, the lights on that damn tree are too damn bright. I can't take my eyes off it. I don't want to change it though, not sure if I could even do that. I wish I could make it less bright. There's a broken bulb, that'll have to do.

I have a couple of missed calls - okay a lot. Don't worry I'll call them back. I know you want me to - probably means I won't do it. I made my way to the kitchen and passed by a coffee stain you left on the table - it kind of looks like a snail with a cowboy hat. Your sweater is on the couch, black and blue with gray in between the stripes, I walked over to it, but your perfume still lingered I got a whiff of it and my heart skipped a beat - I thought I could stop making it do that. I love how you put my shoes right next to yours after you get home, you think I don't notice, but I do. I always do.

A strand of your hair, golden-ish, it's here on the ground forming some sort of elongated S shape. There's that damn music again outside making its way inside with the cold through that frosted window you decorate with stickers. You could've closed it before leaving you know.

I thought of this story you tell me often—a woman passes by a jewelry store every Wednesday, mesmerized by a necklace studded with diamonds. She never misses a Wednesday, just to get a glimpse, but no matter what, the store is always closed when she arrives. Every Wednesday, she passes the necklace, and every Wednesday, the store remains locked.

One day, feeling daring, she decides to go on a Thursday. To her surprise, the store is open. She stops at the door, but doesn’t step inside. Instead, she smiles, content walking past the store with the glimmering necklace still lingering in her mind.

I love how you tell that story, but, I'm sorry, she should've just bought the damn necklace.

The heater turned on - it's getting warmer in here now, warmer, not warm. Almost warm enough for me to cover myself with the blanket you got us. It's too heavy, though, I should probably save myself the ego hit of trying to pick it up. I pick it up but again I get a whiff of your perfume. It's sickening. I'm doing better with the lights now, though, I kind of like them, I kind of hate that one bulb that isn't doing its part in the tree. I think you hate that too.

You know that bridge they're building downtown? It's almost done, not quite, but damn they're getting there, you always say it's coming together real nice-like, I always thought it looks like shit, but now that I think about it, yeah it is "nice-like." Burgundy isn't really what I consider a breakthrough color or anything but yeah it fits in with the ambiance or whatever. Kind of looks nice with the snow, too. Sometimes, a random pile of snow will plop onto the nice-like bridge from the tree overhead. It's heavier snow than usual I can tell by how fast it falls before it hits the burgundy. It melts while the other pile hesitates to meet its demise with burgundy. I can see it from our decorated window.

Okay, I've figured out what I'm going to wear today I've decided to go with khakis. It's a nice color, think. My hands start to fumble when I reach for those khakis - I found a ticket in the pocket from our movie date - do you remember? You wanted to see the reshowing of Elf, I wanted to see Gladiator - so we watched Elf. It was still nice even after the eighth time. We watched Gladiator, eventually, and it was still nice even after the tenth time.

I think we should go to the parade today. I hope they'll still have those chestnuts that burn our mouths, it's worth the pain. I think they'll have the music we love. I think the rink will be open, too we can go ice skating and you can use the skates not fitting you as an excuse for your close inspections of the doomed ice below. I promise you the ice isn't that bad. I guess you would know that better than anyone. I should, too. We can get that hot chocolate you like, I don't really care for it today, but I'll still love watching you drink it like I always do. Then, we can come back home and watch Elf or any other movie you want. Maybe you could wear that sweater on the couch, pick up your elongated S shaped strand of hair, clean your snail with a cowboy hat, close the frosted, sticker-splattered window, fix that damn light bulb on that damn tree, and make some warm soup to mask that sickening perfume.

I'm going to bed now, but I'll leave my shoes by the front door positioned slightly, perfectly, away from from yours so that you can waste time putting them close to your shoes again. Trust me, I'll notice.