A year ago, I wrote a post on MySpace entitled roughly: Why I hate the holidays, and you.

I will now be basically posting the same thing, because I feel just about the same way during the holidays.

Just kidding.

Abut 20 minutes ago, when I started writing this, I was going to catalog all the recent troubles in my life as well as the constant ones so that you’d get an idea why I don’t like the holidays.

But what’s the point?

Sharing my sadness with people has, so far, only brought further sadness. However therapeutic it may seem in the short run, in the long run I am always hurt more for it. I now prefer not to share myself with people anymore. This is better for them because they don’t have to feel bad for me, and it is better for me because… well… it is.

Recently, about three people have asked me how I’ve been. In a serious context — not a pass-me-by-in-the-hallway-and-exchange-pleasantries, but a serious “how are you holding up?” type of question. I told all three people relatively the same thing. All three people are now just kind of ignoring me and the things I shared with them. As if I hadn’t said them.

What’s the point of asking, then?

I’ll admit, one of these people, I probably would’ve been better off not sharing myself with. I don’t know this person that well. But the other two people had been supportive of me in the past… damn near receptive, even. This was when I went to them with a (in my mind) smaller problem. Now, though… what happened?

I have very few people I feel comfortable sharing with anymore. Should they ask, yeah, I’ll probably tell them what’s up. But.

I’d prefer to keep to myself from now on.


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