Silver Trembling Hands

"I'm in the holiday spirit, I want to go to ice skating... lets go ice skating," I demanded. I knew you didn't want to go. I have to twist your arm to get you do anything... but I knew you would eventually go.

I had to bribe you with a blow-job but you went with it. You hated it at first. Or maybe you liked it, but you played the whole tough guy routine and acted like you didn't. You leaned against the wall looking more cool than I had ever seen you look before. I teased you. I zigzagged as I skated. I spun around clock-wise with my arms out... looked at you.. smiled.. spun counter-clock-wise. I tried to look cool-- like a real ice skater..or a fairy... or Cinderella or something.. but I'm a goofy and clumsy girl. I nearly fell and waved my hands around trying to keep my balance and laughing so hard I nearly pissed myself. I didn't fall! I was so proud! I looked over to see you still leaning against the wall and looking cool and laughing at me. I covered my mouth with red velvet gloves and I laughed at you laughing at me... then I lost my balance and fell on my ass.

I got up and skated over to you so fast. I wrapped my arms around your neck, and I hugged you so tightly. Then I moved my arms to your waist and held my face against your chest. You patted my head gently and I looked up to smile to lock eyes with you just like a dog seeking approval from it's owner. "You're such a silly little whore," you said, still patting my head. I moved in to kiss you. You hesitated, but I forced my lips on yours anyway, tangled my legs with yours.. my skates with yours... I pulled you down and I tried to make you fall for me... but you didn't. None of this ever happened. If you knew that I wanted this for us, it probably would've made you sick.

And YOU... you're so traditional, but you decided to spend the holiday season with a non-traditional girl anyway. You wanted to put up a tree, and we did. We drank eggnog and decorated the tree using all of your favorite ornaments and listening to all of your favorite Christmas music. It warmed my heart as you spoke so passionately about all of the things you love about Christmas. I told you about how my dad tried to kill himself a few days before Christmas one year. I told you about how it used to make the holidays sad, but I look fondly on that situation now. You didn't get it. You looked at me with pity and apologized to me for the "bad things" that happened in my life. You changed the subject and suggested we watch one of your favorite Christmas movies, so we did.

We had a few glasses of your favorite red wine in our matching Christmas sweaters we bought together as a joke, and we talked about our mutual fondness for the snow. We made love and I gave you what you needed. "I'm glad you're here," you said. "Me too... me too.." I said as I held your sweaty head against my chest as you drifted off to sleep. I love you. I love you in the cheesy romantic Christmas movie kinda' way. It's deep.. and it's real... and I'm loyal.. I swear I belong to only you, but that night, I gazed out of the window as slow yet thick snow flakes softly kissed the ground, and I thought about ice skating with someone else. It doesn't really matter though because none of this happened. I'll text you something generic on Christmas, and you'll reply back with something generic as well and a little funny, then we'll engage in a short and very polite text conversation... and that's it.

It was either Christmas Eve or Christmas one year... a few years ago. I can't even remember what was going on during that time, but I distinctively remember flying through the snow like Santa in my Jetta across the icy roads in an anti-depressant and whiskey haze without a care in the world. Looking back, it scares me that I was that absolutely careless. I was speeding in the snow! What the fuck?! My mind wandered and I hit a snow bank a few blocks away from my apartment. With my car atop a mound of snow, I stepped out of the car in my pink furry boots drunk as fuck. I stared at the car, the snow, pushed on the car a little bit, then I laughed hysterically. I would've just left the car there, and walked a few extra blocks to my apartment because I honestly didn't give a shit. My cousin was with me. I put his life in danger. It wasn't the first or the last time. I hit a snow bank because I was driving drunk and neither of us acknowledged it.

Some guys helped dig my car out of the snow. When I got back to my apartment, my cousin and I laughed hysterically some more, and we continued to bring the incident up throughout the night to evoke more laughter.

"Haha... dude... remember when you drove your car into that snow bank?"
"Omg.. yeah.. haha... I was SO drunk!"
"You were drunk? You didn't seem drunk"
"Yeah... I was wasted... I could barely even stand... I told everyone I didn't drink much and I was fine to drive"
"Oh..."

That's actually how I've spent the holidays most years as an adult. When I was a child, my parents were always fighting during the holidays, and I knew as soon as it started to get cold, that the fighting would get worse. I used to dread the holidays. When I was a little girl, I escaped inside of all of those wonderful Christmas cartoons, and I hoped to some day understand the miracle of Christmas.

My parents grew up poor, and it was always a big deal to them that I had a big tree decorated with all of the ornaments of my choosing with the most spectacular lights. They also always made sure to get me tons of presents. I had everything I wanted. Big expensive gifts. Cheap little gifts. My parents faught while decorating the tree, during Christmas shopping, and on Christmas day.

There was usually a fight Christmas morning, and my dad would say he didn't want to go anywhere for Christmas. My mom would get upset and yell at him. Sometimes he would accompany us to whomever's home Christmas was going to be at, sometimes he wouldn't. My mom would wipe away her tears and say, "let's go honey, we don't need him." My heart would race and I would get sick to my stomach sitting on the couch on Christmas squeezing my little fists, patiently watching my parents abusing each other, and knowing it was wrong, and that life shouldn't be like this.

I swear to fucking god, Christmas will never be like that again. This year, I won't be spending the holidays ice skating and falling in love and falling on my ass, but I'm not spending the holidays giving in to some downward spiral either. If my parents want to fight, then I'll just go home. The only thing I know for sure that I will be doing this holiday season is thinking and dreaming about the miracle of Christmas because I've still yet to experience it.

Silver Trembling Hands- The Flaming Lips

She keeps feeling for the blindfold
She keeps wishing for the secret society to fall
She keeps watching for the jaguar
With the silver trembling hand

Dagger
Night fight
Tomorrow
She forgets about the fear

When she's high
When she's high
When she's high
When she's high

She puts diamonds on her forehead
They remind her how the animals
And trees and insects call
Is it wrong not to believe?
Nature makes us all compete

Daggers
Night fight
Tomorrow
She forgets about the fear

When she's high
When she's high
When she's high
When she's high