You know what? I hate holidays. I hate holidays because of days like today. For my family, i’s just another day of existence and nothing more. I’s not because we hardly know anyone around here. Yeah, tha’s just an excuse. Rather, i’s because i’s just the way i’s been all these years.
I ca’t even remember the last time I celebrated my birthday with this family. I mean, I do’t expect big parties or anything, but it would have been nice if my birthday has been sincerely acknowledged all these passed years. After all, celebrating on’s birthday means celebrating that perso’s existence.
Birthdays aside, we do’t even celebrate Christmas, not even the gift exchanging tradition of this world, let alone Thanksgiving where the entire family would come together and let each other know of their appreciations for one another. I was never in an environment like that, and I become quite envious when I hear the sound of happiness from other families and/or neighbors.
I could be celebrating the holidays with friends, but as much as I hate to admit, I do’t have anyone around here, and ‘m not in the right circumstance to meet people my age, either. I could start celebrating from now on, but this family is just too used to this kind of lifestyle. Besides, I have no reason to force the change. I mean, it would be extremely difficult to bring all the broken pieces together, not to mention all the emotional drama it would stir.
Of course, I blame it all on my father for leading us into this Hell on Earth and his outdated idea that all children need are food and a roof over their heads. And a lot of criticism to “push” them to the so-called right direction. The old adage, or what adults used to tell us when we were young, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me,” is reversed from my generation, but he still believes in, and practices, that.
I just realized that I do’t hate the holidays but this loveless family…
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