Day 7: Dinner with Cindy’s parents

Cindy broke up with me.

How do I explain my feelings at the moment? I’m certainly not happy. But I don’t think I’m sad either.

It happened right after dinner with her parents, another train wreck that is a testament to most social gatherings that occur this time of year. I realize now that I was in no state of mind to sit at a table and listen to Cindy and her parents express their pretentious joy while subtly criticizing me.

As I’ve already stated, dear reader, my disdain with this season is not an irrational one that appeared suddenly. It came about through a series of bad experiences which haunt me to this day. And Cindy knew all of these.

At dinner, Cindy animatedly told her parents how we decided to decorate her house early and much fun we had. I could barely contain my displeasure at her statement, since decorating her house was as much fun as a root canal at the dentist and her parents immediately noticed. Cindy put them at ease though, by informing them that I eventually came around and enjoyed myself. Her father wasn’t entirely pleased though. I can still picture his agitated face as he asked me why I was so unhappy.

Why was I unhappy? Why don’t you ask your precious daughter? But of course, Cindy sat there with a vapid smile on her face. It was the short underhanded comment that Mr. L said that really put me over the edge. Looking directly at me he said something about how people need to celebrate this time of year, despite any killjoys. I had to excuse myself from the table because my blood was quickly rising to my head. As I walked away I heard Cindy calm her parents’ indignation by informing them that we were looking forward to this.

At that point, I lost it. It’s a wonder I didn’t yell at her. She sat there at the table smiling. The same smile that I thought was so beautiful when I first met her. All it was now was evidence of her blissful ignorance. So I walked up to the table and I told her that we practically don’t exist anymore. I told her that she’s always only thought of herself, and shown no consideration for me. She told me that I shouldn’t speak to her that way just because I have some “small annoyance” with this season. I couldn’t believe she could ignore all of those conversations I shared with her explaining my displeasure. I shared with her personal stories about the tumultuous family Christmases and how my father left me at Christmas. And now she sat there telling me how I had a “small annoyance” with the season. How is my father deserting our family at Christmas a “small annoyance???”

On the ride home, I tried to talk to her, but she dismissed me. So I sat there, and silently drove her home. All the while I thought about how this wonderful girl, with her optimistic cheerful attitude had now become unbearable to be around. When we arrived at her house, I didn’t lean in to kiss her. I just sat there staring out of my windshield. All she said was, “we are done.” Cold. Heartless. Just like the season. Then she left the car.

I spent the last few hours playing video games. I tried to distract myself, but there’s only one thing that I could do, and that’s talk about it. But at this hour, it’s too late to talk to anyone. So I’m talking to you, dear reader.

This is another reason why I hate Christmas.

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