Merry Christmas, Goodbye.

You won't see the twinkle of tinsel or the decade-old fairy lights flash. We won't get to decorate the
tree and bicker about what should go where. We won't get to put our star on the top and you won't be
here. 

I'm not a child anymore but forgive me for wanting to hold on tight to that Christmas morning magic
but it started to fade the same time as you and now there's just an eerie silence.

They'll be no early mornings for us. Me desperately trying to scramble to open my presents that you've
so nicely laid out and you just watching with the little dog on your knee.

We won't get each other presents this year. They'll be a space left empty and a ghost of you. 

I am left with one present that wasn't meant to be given to me so early in life but I'll take it
nonetheless. I'm left with the memories of you, the good times over the bad, the eccentric
Christmases, and the mark you have forever made on me. 

Sleep well and Merry Christmas.