I'll be home for the holidays.
Something isn't right when you have to prepare yourself just for a home visit. Prepare yourself for the judgement and the unacceptable nature in your household that seems to be so wonderful, well at least to everyone else. The others think that it's so wonderful, that we are so well off. Truth be told, we really are. Living in a six bedroom home away from the rest of society is damn good. To have a household bringing in six figures...oh it's wonderful. But, tell me how wonderful it is when three out of the five in the household aren't speaking to one another. Or, when two of three with beef have been attacked based off of a lack of basic respect? The ones who have the most blessings are always the most fucked up. There is no reason for my brothers not to be home when I go "home" for Christmas. It's not a home to me if its not complete and filled with open arms and love. Instead, I am going to be dealing with awkward animosity and constant ways to figure out how I need to bite my tongue. I could just stay here and take the easy way out. But the easy way comes with loneliness and depression of thinking that I do not have a home to go to. So, instead I'll take the hard way of hiding my true feelings of feeling betrayed and abandoned. Yes, yes I'll be home for the holidays.