December comes together with November rain. It means: Christmas. I don’t celebrate Christmas religiously. I celebrate it as a holiday and change of decoration. It is when everyone pretends to see white Christmas and be happy about it; along the streets, inside the shopping malls, in front of doors, under the fake plastic trees. Everything is set so close to how you would see it in Europe or in “Serendipity”: beautiful.
In December, we all get older. Some get heartbroken, some other found their others. People meet then grow apart.
Memories of previous Decembers remain and come back. I kind of miss my aunt & cousins whom we used to visit every Christmas. I think I kind of miss the little lamps on their tree and the happy chat.
I remember their faces and the differences between us. I also remember the imaginary kisses under the fake plastic mistletoe. Broken dates: eight flew over, one was destroyed.
So. This is a December of joy & plans.