Above me, high in the night sky, I could see the festive cherub lights that were spreading out in all directions. Traces of golden moonlight pierced through, reaching clear blue skies, illuminating the awe-striking images of snow-laden evergreen ltrees and a breathtaking view of the rotunda of the Manhatten Mall. The white candy cane webs, strung with red bows, were woven around the colossal shopping center's column like a collar, adding to the winter's spirit.
The weather is cold and crisp. The scent of peppermint wafts in the air and the scent of those light Christmas candies. The snow has freshly fallen over New York. It has been a white Christmas here.
I love this time of the year. It always reminds me of the festive spirit and good will for everyone. When life seems so much more meaningful, as if every thought and sensation have a crystalline freshness and clarity.
I could truly feel that I was born again, as if I had entered a shining valley of everlasting happiness. All my sins were forgiven, all my past mistakes and empty times were left behind without a trace, and my greatest wish for atonement was granted.
I belong in the snow-shrouded lane of the mall. I belong in the ethereal realm of the lights, where the air was pure and sweet, with the gilt specks of radiant snow. I was my fantasy: snow plump coating my arms and shoulders, while it enveloped my elegant legs, exposing my toes and rose pedicure. My hair, down, surrounding my face and shoulders, made me look like a model in the idealized magazine of my fantasies: arms draped around myself, the slight white smile on my face, with my eyes and body slightly shy but noticeably happy, my look radiating an aura that was both impressed by the snow and “up to something”.
I wanted to walk down the street in the snow; I wanted to stop in a trashy coffee shop and enjoy some of the coffee, hot chocolate or coffee beans with whipped cream, feeling the snow on my skirt and legs, enjoying the music of “White Christmas”, remembering as I got lost in the memory of the Christmas of my childhood and of the wonder and magic of Christmas on Christmas eve. I would remember, in the night, how Christmas Eve is just one day after Christmas, and how it feels as if Christmas Day never happened.
The snow was making my spirit soar and my mood was setting in the perfect mood for my Christmas adventure.
I wanted to snap some pictures of the white, twinkling lights, the traditional Christmas decorations, and the people walking around in the snow and in the presents they were receiving. I wanted the snow to be covering my backside, while I was walking, and I wanted the snow to stay on my face all day.
I wanted to see the illusion that seemed to be obvious to me: beauty and light of snow, the effortless look of happiness, the subtle harmony of music and the beauty of people, the timeless joy of Christmas.
I wanted everything and then I wanted nothing but to be content and happy.
I wanted to see my parents happy and my siblings as well. I wanted to go to my sister's wedding, but I was afraid to see my ex-boyfriend who was going to be there as well.
I wanted to experience being happy, without wanting anything else, without having to feel my entire life has been for nothing, without feeling I am being blind spiritually, without being plagued by the feeling of helplessness.
I wanted to see everything I have ever experienced in my life was nothing but a nightmare. I wanted to surround myself with things that I enjoy, the people that I love, and the things that make me happy.
I wanted to lose all the nightmares of my adolescent years, and have them all burned, while I created a new one that will be more beautiful than any before it.
I was feeling that Christmas Eve in which I said I wished for nothing else but to enjoy the Christmas of my youth. I could remember as if it were yesterday. The warm embrace. The wonderful smiles. The tenderness of the nights. The joyful expressions of people, who were looking at me, as if for the first time. My first Christmas with my family. The wonderful, enchanting snow.
I felt that I was surrounded by a love so real that it was unreal, and yet I could not see it. I could feel it, and I could sense its ethereal warmth, and yet I could not touch it. I knew it was there, but it was only after I lost it, that I could reach at its exuberance. The love that is. The love that could never be lost. The ever-present love. The feeling of eternity.
And again I realized that I was feeling such an horrific desolation while I was walking this abandoned asylum.
I am freezing. What is wrong with this place? What is wrong with me?
I am lost in the past, hoping with all my heart that I can forget all the pain, the countless nights of loneliness, and the frustration of my youth. Every time I slid down that hallway, headed for a place where I was seeking “love” but I was condemned for it, every time I whispered, “This won't hurt…” every time I ran away from something horrendous and humiliation, and every time I cheated on something I was supposed to be faithful, then… all those moments, all those memories, all those emotions, they dragged me down into the darkest part of the insanity.
It felt like though I were going through one horrible nightmare after another, while I was stuck in a caricature of the past. The nightmare of “cameo” on the end of the hallway of my life. I was reduced to an illiterate, misunderstood, ignored, pitiful former nerd who had “failed” both at school and at love.
I was trapped in the room of pain as well as in the room of fear, as I lost all my hope, faith and love, and I lived in the shadows of my own demons and the dreaded shadow of my own doubts.
The shadows of the memories from the past were attacking me and I felt their breath, their touch and their malice. I could not get rid of them, and I never felt freedom or rest. I was never free from the past, and I could not enjoy the present.
I was trapped in the lonely, cold place of my shadowy past, trapped with all my insecurities, fears, anger, doubts, and loneliness.
I was trapped with all those people whom I never wanted to be with, in a place where I should never be. Each of them was the worst part of myself, and a part of my monster's true and lonely self.
