First Christmas

That first Christmas without you was the worst.

But also, it was the best.

The worst, because no matter where I was looking,

I was seeing you.

The most beautiful ghost of my past.

The worse, because each breath I took,

Felt like dying.

I didn't need any liquor, to feel my lungs burning,

Only the thought of you,

Not being mine,

Was enough to turned my inside into Pompeii.

The worse, because every time the door opened,

My heart started racing,

In hope that you'd be the one coming through.

The worse, because at the end of the night,

When everyone was long gone,

There was an unopened gift under the tree.

A perfectly wrapped gift,

With your name on the tag.

One last gift,

You never got to open.

But when I say that it was also the best, I mean it.

The Best, because it was the last year,

That your perfume lived in my walls.

The best, because I was still in love, and let's be honest,

There's not a better day in the year to be in love.

The best, because I forgave myself,

For not being enough.

The best, because I gave myself permission to get over it.

To get over you.

The best, because I opened that last gift under the tree.

The best, because when I unwrapped it,

I found my freedom in it.

And baby, I took it back with a smile.