The REAL Christmas

So despite my little rant yesterday, I managed to hold on to some glimmer of hope. See, whatever else happens, I look forward to waking up Christmas morning and, even if it's over the phone, watch listen to my family open their presents. It has never been much of a bother to me that I'm the one who has the least number of presents under the tree (year after year). I really only care about whether or not those who have gotten me presents have thought about the gift and what it means. So this year, with one present to open (from my roommate, no less), it still didn't bother me a whole lot as long as I could share Christmas morning with the family (that I don't care for too much). And this morning was a painful remininder of exactly why I would completely disown them if my conscience would let me. You see, they had already opened their presents last night. They didn't even call me when they were doing it; I had to find out by calling them this morning. This was the one thing that would have made Christmas bearable, the one thing of substance. That thing is now gone, and there is nothing left. Christmas has literally become for me what formal logic calls "an empty set". On top of this, the money that I sent to my mom with specific instructions to spend it at a particular place was spent somewhere else; my instructions were ignored.

And yet, somehow, I can't help but feel like I'm whining over all of this. I'm not going to take away my right to feel this way. I believe people are entitled to a meaningful Christmas, and in the end, I suppose all I want for Christmas is for it to have some kind of meaning. Maybe that's why I'm feeling this way, that I can't find any meaning in it. Call me Charlie Brown, or call me Scrooge, or even call me the Grinch. I just want Christmas to mean something, and it doesn't. The biggest problem is that life is not paralleled by the movies. Movies have happy endings, and everything works out - especially Christmas ones. Life doesn't have the same fairytale settings and fantastical endings. Movies are like religion: they build high and unrealistic expectations, and when those expectations aren't met, there is nothing but disappointment and disillusionment. It's nothing that can't be remedied by lowering expectations or not getting one's hopes up.