Christmas is around the corner. I miss you—maybe reaching out to you won't hurt.
‘Tis the season of giving; perhaps it's also the season of yearning—yearning for the ghost of someone. A holiday that celebrates the festivities shared among the people you love, the people you call ‘home,’ but my house has been collecting dust and the paint is starting to peel off.
Halloween has ended, yet ironically, I’m being haunted by someone who is still alive.
I still recall that one November night when everything went wrong, where I decided that parting ways was easier than fixing what we had, I was never the mature type to think things through.
A sin—to miss someone you left
A bliss—to remember someone you loved
Calling you felt like a challenge I could never win, I never found the right time to reach out; inconveniencing you was the last thing I wanted this jolly season.
I fear you would hate me even more if I did.
But what if I call and you pick up the phone? And I use this holiday to make my way to your ghost
But what if you were actually waiting for me to call?
What if you were also just waiting for the right time to talk to me again?
A million excuses ran through me; it's wishful thinking after all.
Maybe reaching out would be for the best—or for the worst. I do not want to cross the line that separates us, you were fond of your space after all.
But if the timing was right,
The invisible line is starting to blur in your vision,
And the moment is yours to take hold of,
I'll gladly cross the line, if it meant to hold you once more.
You're still the one I’ll run to.
I wish to use this holiday as a pitiful excuse to greet you ‘Merry Christmas’ and send you a silly sticker you once laughed at. I hope you'll want that.
I hope through this Christmas breeze, you'll feel my words flow with the wind that will make your heart skip a beat and you'll finally miss me too. The ache of me is present but this time, tolerable.
Merry Christmas. I hope I get the chance to inconvenience you once more.
