i know what i want this christmas, and it can’t be wrapped in paper or tied in bows. i want a hug from my grandma. i want a christmas tree short enough that i can reach the top by standing on my tiptoes. i want to laugh so hard i have to hold my stomach from bursting. i want strawberry pie. i want a senseless smooch under the mistletoe. i want conversation by the fireplace. i want to see snow, even if i have to drive far to see it, and i know i will.
i want to remember that it’s not about gifts, it’s about family. it’s not about wearing the right outfit, it’s about feeling secure. it’s not about jingles and cookies with sprinkles and stars that twinkle. it’s about love, and you knew i’d say that, so don’t act so surprised.
this christmas, i don’t want gifts. you think i’m just saying that, but really, i don’t. so, unless santa can go get my grandma, bake like the people at house of pies, maneuver the kiss of the century with the boy i’m still crushing and make it snow in los angeles, then he can go to someone else’s house. i’m going to have a merry christmas without him.