(no subject)

[xxentombment]

December. I really do not hate a month as much as I hate December. Mornings that are so dark the only thing you want to do is roll over in your warm bed and sleep more, instead of become victim to the chill in the air. Nights that are so cold you're afraid to step outside to admire the beauty of the clear winter sky, or the twinkling stars you might be blessed to sleep under in the warm nights of summer. Summer is filled with loving memories, and December tore them away. The only way to keep warm, it seems, is the be in the arms of another. I watch as couples hold eachother close to escape the cold and am stricken with the illness of jealousy. No longer do I have someone to cuddle up with not only for the warmth of their body, but the comfort of knowing someone cares. A good friend once said "(I want a boy...) To let me wear his jacket." Well... I want a boy, to be my jacket. Let his warm arms become my sleeves. I want a boy to percieve me as who I really am, not what I became in the eyes of lost love. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I have become the most hideous of creature in his eyes. Why is he so ungrateful of the love that I give him? Why have I seemed to change so much... but only to him? When you look into my eyes, you still see me. He doesn't look into my eyes anymore. So I must go on, find someone who see's and wants all I have to offer. Its hard being alone, but Ive realized that in being alone versus being with someone who's just not right, and only fills the void partially, being alone overpowers more than anything. I want a boy, a boy to be my boy in December. I want a boy to be my winter boy. I hate December. The only month that makes me feel as though I need something more than the love I thought I'd have forever. I hate December. For making me want something that I know I wont be getting this Christmas. I wont wake up Christmas morning, stumble upon my Christmas tree to find his angelic face sleeping under it with a bow around his wrist wear I once held it, with the rest of my gifts. Gifts that have no sentimental value. Gifts that are the only proving more the point of our society's material ways. I would write more about the meaning of Christmas, but Id only be hypocritical. All I want for Christmas is a boy. A boy who's heart I got as a gift, but saw not fitting, and gave it away to someone who's bound to break it. It is too fragile for this dangerous person. I just wish I'd given it to someone who I could trust. Maybe someday they'll give it back. Maybe I'll get my Christmas wish. He's the only thing I want for Christmas.

"So to hell with Holiday romantics
December is for cynics
December is critics
Let's just try to sleep late and hibernate
December is for cynics
Damn, it's too easy being great"