The Sapphic Christmas

18th December

Sophie

When I wake up in the morning, I smell gingerbread cookies. No poet of mankind could tell how much I love gingerbread cookies made by my grandmother.

"Good morning." I come out (a long-time pass by since the day... I'm sorry, I'll stop) the guest bedroom. "Cookies smell awesome."

"I'm glad you like it, there's few cookies left from the first part, that's all for you. More ones will be ready soon." They're sitting in the hall, where there's also a small Christmas tree. How many trees are in the house?

"How was your sleep?" Grandfather asks, after which he drink tea from his mug.

"Good. And you?" I'm pretty bad at small talk. Basically, I always ask: "And you? What about you?"

Gradually we begin a normal dialogue. We don't talk about any serious problems, the morning isn't the right time for such topics, but it's more of a dialogue-argument. We talk about art. No one talks to me about art anymore. The rest of the people around me either know this topic too well and they just... don't waste time educating me about something like that, and others don't understand, so they can't say anything.

After finishing my second plate of cookies, I suggest taking a walk. There's a forest not far from here. It's not very big, although it's easy to get lost if someone has never been there before. I like walking there. Maybe because I spent a lot of time there when I was a child, maybe because now I'm attracted by the peace and quiet that can always be found in forest. I really love this place.

*

My grandparents are talking about something, and I'm enjoying nature walking behind them. We're going through the town. I like how clean and beautiful it's here. In many ways, it looks like Brighton's little copy, only without the sea and the crowd. If there're as few people in Brighton as here, I would definitely move to Brighton without a second thought. So, this idea just continues to live in my head. It's not that I think about it, it just settled in my head and doesn't go anywhere. Is this the right decision? Maybe I shouldn't even try, but leave everything as it is? Well, it's not great at the moment, but it can be worse.

I'm really trying to ignore all the voices in my head, I need silence. My mental health is better there, along to my grands, but it can't just make up.

After the walk, grandma and grandpa take a nap, and I get a quick, easy lunch, and also go back to my room to rest and get some sleep. I don't know how my grandmother managed to do this, but the apartment smells like cinnamon and orange all the time, but I don't see any food, candles or air freshener. This's definitely not a perfume. I wonder how they do it, and now I want my apartment to have the smell.

I'm fully in the holiday mood because I'm here, but Ella's still in my head. This apartment reminds of her even more. Every day I want to check her social networks, or watch new vlogs, but I can't do it. If I see how bad she is, I'll blame myself for this (because at least some contribution from me to her spoiled Christmas mood, if it's not completely my fault), and if she doesn't change at all, then this will be a proof that I'm not important for her. I know, it's stupid, but it's my real feelings. I still miss her, but these thoughts should stay inside.

I fall asleep again, although in the morning I thought that I had slept enough. I wake up earlier than my grandparents, so I turn on the "Elf" and begin finishing the painting of Ella. I'm interested about the result, because even I don't know how it will look.

The whole day passed so calmly, wrapped in festive music (after the movie), love and care. I don't need more. I'm able to complete that drawing quickly enough, the work turns out to take less time than I thought. Glancing at the canvas, I'm surprised that I like everything. I rarely like my art on 100%, but this's one of those rare cases.

Leaving the painting in the room to dry, I go to the kitchen. I want to eat something light, maybe a salad. It's not even an evening I already feel productive.

Twenty minutes later I sit under the big Christmas tree in the dining room. It's the perfect place where I could spend all holidays. Well, it's what I already do. Plus, there's new tasks for my work. The pre-holiday season is one of the most successful for me. I like that I always can be online.

I really like the decorations, the room, the vibe so I take a photo of it. I do it for my future self, and I post it on Instagram right away. It's unusual for me, the social media is hard to handle for some people with social anxiety, so I rarely upload anything. However, now i don't want to think about it much.

At dinner, we exchange gifts. I tell them I might not be at the family dinner at Christmas, since I don't want to spoil the holiday with arguments. They don't try to change my mind, but it's clear that they don't like this idea. I get it, I love them even more for respecting my boundaries. I'm blessed with the best grands.

They get new kitchen towels, one is with Rudolph's draw, other with Santa's paint, on the third one is Mrs. Claus; also they now have two warm sweaters. I get a big, heavy box. From the very beginning I have wondered what they'd give me, but this box makes an even bigger surprise. Opening it, I see a Polaroid, and not the one that InstaX, but it's real big old Polaroid.

"Oh my goodness. Thank you. This's the best gift I've ever been given." That's not even an exaggeration. I have never really gotten anything better than this camera.

"Hold on, this is a small addition". Grandpa hold out a small envelope. When I open it, I see the Polaroid paper.

Hugging them in turn, I like a small child want to use it right away. I ask them to stand together near the Christmas tree and I take a photo. After waiting a bit, we see the picture. I think it turns out perfect.

After dinner, we watch a movie on TV together. Today they showed "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" with Jim Carrey. In fact, it's the best end of a day that's already been perfect.