22 Dec 2017

Hey Santa,

It’s ya boi. We kept getting those letters from you begging for my Christmas list despite the fact I haven’t believed in you in over a decade, so I figured I’d sling one your way for ol’ times sake, if not for the novelty of sending a letter for once in my life.

Is it just me, or does Christmas feel a bit… off? I’m not sure if it’s the forty hours of work at my shitty retail job that’s put a damper on it. Nine straight hours of jazz and country covers of the same four Christmas carols is a pretty good way to desensitise anyone to it, I guess.

Maybe my only gift desire being “as much money as you can give” doesn’t help either–kind of takes the element of surprise right out of the equation.

It could also be the fact I don’t live in the house I spent so many Christmas days in. The smell of fresh pine filling my nostrils and all the loose nettles littering the floor really made it feel right, you know?

I remember the folly of going to sleep early on Christmas eve so it’d come sooner, only to wake up way before anyone else, forcing me to wait agonising hours before opening presents.

Nowadays the full day of work I had on Christmas eve–and the wine I had to compensate–will conk me out and I’ll be lucky to even realise its Christmas when I wake up.

I remember when family gatherings were the shit because the adults were too busy chatting to notice me flipping off my older brother. Now it’s just dodging endless questions of “So, what are you studying again?”, deconstructions of my non-existent love life and trying to figure out how to leave without looking like a dick.

I don’t remember when I stopped believing in you, Santa, but I think I’ll always remember when Christmas stopped being the best thing in the world.

That should be the new metric for adulthood–not when you can drink, not when you can drive; when Christmas stops being ‘Christmas.’

Whelp, sorry to bring you down, Santa. I know you don’t exist but I felt I needed to get this off my chest and to give whoever reads these a laugh (or an existential crisis). Also, sorry for not believing in your existence–no hard feelings?

Sincerely,

A Struggling Student