![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunhawk16What did this want to be when it grew up? I have no idea. I started it with the intent of it being funny. Then we got a tad bit of angst coming to the party. And it finishes out... ok look, I think I may have inadvertently drafted a candidate for a Hallmark movie… If they end up cashing in, someone make sure to snag the royalties! As for the title, there is absolutely no reason for it save for it made me snicker.
And if it isn’t painfully obvious by the end of this little ficlet, celebrate the holiday traditions that you want to celebrate. Don’t let anyone, even family, push you into feeling a false sense of obligation.
Title: Leggo my Eggo
There was something to be said for the Christmas season. Admittedly most of those somethings were complaints laced with a delightful array of explicit language as the whole of humanity was downgraded to having only one brain cell to share amongst itself for a month. It never failed to amaze and confound, that strange social transformation which occurred at the stroke of midnight Thanksgiving Day and persisted to the day after Christmas, petering out in that strange time between Christmas and New Year’s until it dissipated completely for another year.
It was always telling, I once thought, watching and listening as you passed complete strangers on the street and getting snippets of their stories, coming to realize so many of them were the exact same. The wife who doesn’t want a thing to do with her mother-in-law, the newlyweds tearing their hair out trying to create a schedule that allows them to see everyone, the single parents despairing because they wanted to give their kids the world and not being able to.
‘I never realized Ol’ Saint Nick carried a riot stick and garland handcuffs!’ I remember I had blurted out once in the middle of a crowded store. The woman in front of me who had been yammering on to her girlfriends at length at the utter distain she felt at having to buy Christmas gifts for her fiancé’s parents and younger sibling all but clutching her proverbial pearls at my outburst. Heero had calmly taken my purchase from me and set it aside, slipping his arm around my waist and gently yet forcibly leading me back out onto the open street.
I hadn’t understood it then, years ago, why I was seething or why tears sprung up and made my eyes burn the minute we were away, standing at the outside corner of the building in a low traffic area with Heero standing between me and the rest of the world. I blathered, ranting about selfish people and stupid holidays and raging at how it was utterly ridiculous that specialty stores that were never busy the rest of the year should suddenly get over run. Through it all Heero was just there, wrapping me up, pressing his forehead to mine and whispering agreements and reassurances.
‘I can hack in to install the ZERO system on their point of sales registers if you want,’ he had said with an expression that was equal parts love and conviction. I didn’t doubt his ability to scrounge up or partially recreate the program and the thought of a few dozen entitled shoppers dealing with that particular problem made me pause in my tirade and giggle, then snort, before laughing a deep long belly laugh as I wrapped my arms around Heero and buried my face in his neck. It would take a few more years, a few more outbursts, and a few blossoming traditions for me to start to piece together what I was feeling.
The epiphany came late one December evening while I was sitting with Heero in his office at Preventer headquarters. It was a week before Christmas and the place was practically dead, everyone out on those last remaining vacation days or cashing in on the vacation they insisted on hoarding all year like vicious mythical reptiles. One of the other agents on the floor had swung by and offered up a tin of Christmas cookies, the likes of which I was happy to liberate from Heero’s desk as soon as he set them down, and asked if Heero and I would be attending the annual office holiday party that weekend. One politely declined invitation later and they were on their way, no fuss no muss. The gingerbread man that I had been about to gleefully bite a leg off of was temporarily forgotten as I stared after the retreating figure.
‘That was… really easy.’
‘It’s tradition,’ Heero said with a tone that conveyed ‘that’s the tenth time this week I wish I could just send a mass email’ without saying, well, exactly that.
‘A tradition that said its piece and then took the exit, stage left. No guilt trip, no trying to convince you otherwise…’
‘It’s safe and easy small talk this time of year, not an interrogation,’ Heero said as he flipped through a few pages of the file on his desk before starting to type again, though not before reaching out and gesturing for a cookie. I indulged him, plucking up a snickerdoodle and passing it over.
‘It’s just bizarre to see someone not try to press the obligation of it,’ I eyed the gingerbread man and then snapped off the delicious appendage I had previously been ready to consume.
‘True obligations are very different from socially perceived obligations. Bills and groceries are obligations. Ugly sweater contests and white elephant gift exchanges are not.’
I mulled the thought over as I continued to dismember the helpless cookie. He was right, of course, when you thought about it. At their core obligations were just fickle little things that, when you got right down to it, were only the bastardized love child of guilt and social influence. And they seemed to always be in season this time of year.
‘I’m starting to feel like Christmas isn’t really the jolly old time it’s made out to be…’ I said and I felt my throat constrict around the words in an odd way, I imagine the way they it does when you’re told Santa isn’t actually capable of traveling the world in one night and thus outsources work to your parents. I pushed the feeling aside by cramming the rest of the cookie into my mouth. Heero had stopped working and had locked me with a look that said I had all of his attention.
‘How is it made out to be?’
‘Glorifying home invasion via chimney?’ I mumbled around my mouthful of cookie, then swallowed, took a breath, and thought for a few long moments. Heero simply sat there patiently and I felt that constriction in my throat change from one of sadness to one of admiration and love. ‘It’s not… real? Wait, no, that isn’t quite right. It’s inflated, that sounds better.’
‘Not the Hallmark movie it’s always promised to be?’
‘Hallmark movies are made of nothing but lies on a whole different scale. I’m fairly sure that about three of them were made at the dawn of time and they just keep getting re-released with a new coat of paint,’ I punctuated my point by making a retching noise and Heero made some comment alluding to the year I had done nothing but lay around and watch the Hallmark channel for a week while ill. We all do things we aren’t proud of in life. ‘But no, when it comes down to it nothing about the holiday is what it’s always promised to be.’
‘And what’s the promise?’
‘Families and friends getting together and being happy to do so, taking joy in doing something kind for someone else, randomly bursting in to song and singing carols in the middle of the street with fifteen complete strangers that just happen to have perfect pitch,’ Heero lifted an eye brow at that and I made a gesture to wave it off. ‘Maybe not so much that last one. But all the rest… it’s frustrating. How many people are in this building besides us? Not many if the cars in the parking lot are anything to go by. And it’s like that everywhere. People save up their vacation until the end of the year so they can take off, but it’s never to spend time with family or relax. And then you hear people constantly bitching and whining about having to visit the in-laws, the debt that they accrue due to having to shop for everyone and their brother. Not to mention that people lose their damn minds. Last week I saw a fist fight at the grocery over the last box of Eggo Waffles.’
‘And?’
‘And? And it sucks. It’s all a smoke and mirrors game of perceived obligations. And they didn’t… I mean…’
Heero looked back to his computer for a moment, a sharp and precise click of keys following before he stood up and took a moment to stretch before walking over and perching on the corner of the desk I had been occupying. Reaching out he motioned for my hand and I complied, lacing our fingers together.
‘They didn’t fight in a war.’
‘No... Maybe if they had they would be a little more grateful for those overbearing grandparents and overcooked Christmas turkeys.’
Though I scoffed Heero simply chuckled and lifted my hand, placing a kiss across my knuckles. ‘Maybe. But as we covered, true obligations are very different from perceived ones. And you are right, for what they are to the world, holidays are a bit of a dumpster fire.’
He stood then, pulling me up with him and catching me in an embrace with one arm loose around my waist and the other caressing my check, thumb running over my lips. I grinned and playfully nipped at the digit and started to speak when he leaned close, placing his lips beside my ear.
‘You are my world, Duo,’ he whispered with such intense sincerity that I felt my face flush and my lips flutter from playful grin to true smile, the kind that no matter what you do you can’t force it back down. ‘Our traditions are our own. Let the rest of the world have their commercialism, perceived obligations and overbearing grandparents. So long as we continue to create our own holiday memories that is jolly enough for me, and that is something that I can promise you.’
I laughed, nodded, sniffled, smiled, all in the same span of seconds it took for him to pull back and stare at me with that gaze that said so much more than words ever could. A look that I had had to learn to read and understand over a long number of years and through a great many trials. I felt the smile on my face widen and I clasped his face with my hands, pulling him in and kissing him, the damn tease, and it was always the most thrilling feeling to feel my own smile returned to me in the middle of our kiss.
Maybe Christmas wasn’t the jolliest time of year for a lot of people. But maybe that was only because they hadn’t quite found the true meaning of it yet.
And if it isn’t painfully obvious by the end of this little ficlet, celebrate the holiday traditions that you want to celebrate. Don’t let anyone, even family, push you into feeling a false sense of obligation.
Title: Leggo my Eggo
There was something to be said for the Christmas season. Admittedly most of those somethings were complaints laced with a delightful array of explicit language as the whole of humanity was downgraded to having only one brain cell to share amongst itself for a month. It never failed to amaze and confound, that strange social transformation which occurred at the stroke of midnight Thanksgiving Day and persisted to the day after Christmas, petering out in that strange time between Christmas and New Year’s until it dissipated completely for another year.
It was always telling, I once thought, watching and listening as you passed complete strangers on the street and getting snippets of their stories, coming to realize so many of them were the exact same. The wife who doesn’t want a thing to do with her mother-in-law, the newlyweds tearing their hair out trying to create a schedule that allows them to see everyone, the single parents despairing because they wanted to give their kids the world and not being able to.
‘I never realized Ol’ Saint Nick carried a riot stick and garland handcuffs!’ I remember I had blurted out once in the middle of a crowded store. The woman in front of me who had been yammering on to her girlfriends at length at the utter distain she felt at having to buy Christmas gifts for her fiancé’s parents and younger sibling all but clutching her proverbial pearls at my outburst. Heero had calmly taken my purchase from me and set it aside, slipping his arm around my waist and gently yet forcibly leading me back out onto the open street.
I hadn’t understood it then, years ago, why I was seething or why tears sprung up and made my eyes burn the minute we were away, standing at the outside corner of the building in a low traffic area with Heero standing between me and the rest of the world. I blathered, ranting about selfish people and stupid holidays and raging at how it was utterly ridiculous that specialty stores that were never busy the rest of the year should suddenly get over run. Through it all Heero was just there, wrapping me up, pressing his forehead to mine and whispering agreements and reassurances.
‘I can hack in to install the ZERO system on their point of sales registers if you want,’ he had said with an expression that was equal parts love and conviction. I didn’t doubt his ability to scrounge up or partially recreate the program and the thought of a few dozen entitled shoppers dealing with that particular problem made me pause in my tirade and giggle, then snort, before laughing a deep long belly laugh as I wrapped my arms around Heero and buried my face in his neck. It would take a few more years, a few more outbursts, and a few blossoming traditions for me to start to piece together what I was feeling.
The epiphany came late one December evening while I was sitting with Heero in his office at Preventer headquarters. It was a week before Christmas and the place was practically dead, everyone out on those last remaining vacation days or cashing in on the vacation they insisted on hoarding all year like vicious mythical reptiles. One of the other agents on the floor had swung by and offered up a tin of Christmas cookies, the likes of which I was happy to liberate from Heero’s desk as soon as he set them down, and asked if Heero and I would be attending the annual office holiday party that weekend. One politely declined invitation later and they were on their way, no fuss no muss. The gingerbread man that I had been about to gleefully bite a leg off of was temporarily forgotten as I stared after the retreating figure.
‘That was… really easy.’
‘It’s tradition,’ Heero said with a tone that conveyed ‘that’s the tenth time this week I wish I could just send a mass email’ without saying, well, exactly that.
‘A tradition that said its piece and then took the exit, stage left. No guilt trip, no trying to convince you otherwise…’
‘It’s safe and easy small talk this time of year, not an interrogation,’ Heero said as he flipped through a few pages of the file on his desk before starting to type again, though not before reaching out and gesturing for a cookie. I indulged him, plucking up a snickerdoodle and passing it over.
‘It’s just bizarre to see someone not try to press the obligation of it,’ I eyed the gingerbread man and then snapped off the delicious appendage I had previously been ready to consume.
‘True obligations are very different from socially perceived obligations. Bills and groceries are obligations. Ugly sweater contests and white elephant gift exchanges are not.’
I mulled the thought over as I continued to dismember the helpless cookie. He was right, of course, when you thought about it. At their core obligations were just fickle little things that, when you got right down to it, were only the bastardized love child of guilt and social influence. And they seemed to always be in season this time of year.
‘I’m starting to feel like Christmas isn’t really the jolly old time it’s made out to be…’ I said and I felt my throat constrict around the words in an odd way, I imagine the way they it does when you’re told Santa isn’t actually capable of traveling the world in one night and thus outsources work to your parents. I pushed the feeling aside by cramming the rest of the cookie into my mouth. Heero had stopped working and had locked me with a look that said I had all of his attention.
‘How is it made out to be?’
‘Glorifying home invasion via chimney?’ I mumbled around my mouthful of cookie, then swallowed, took a breath, and thought for a few long moments. Heero simply sat there patiently and I felt that constriction in my throat change from one of sadness to one of admiration and love. ‘It’s not… real? Wait, no, that isn’t quite right. It’s inflated, that sounds better.’
‘Not the Hallmark movie it’s always promised to be?’
‘Hallmark movies are made of nothing but lies on a whole different scale. I’m fairly sure that about three of them were made at the dawn of time and they just keep getting re-released with a new coat of paint,’ I punctuated my point by making a retching noise and Heero made some comment alluding to the year I had done nothing but lay around and watch the Hallmark channel for a week while ill. We all do things we aren’t proud of in life. ‘But no, when it comes down to it nothing about the holiday is what it’s always promised to be.’
‘And what’s the promise?’
‘Families and friends getting together and being happy to do so, taking joy in doing something kind for someone else, randomly bursting in to song and singing carols in the middle of the street with fifteen complete strangers that just happen to have perfect pitch,’ Heero lifted an eye brow at that and I made a gesture to wave it off. ‘Maybe not so much that last one. But all the rest… it’s frustrating. How many people are in this building besides us? Not many if the cars in the parking lot are anything to go by. And it’s like that everywhere. People save up their vacation until the end of the year so they can take off, but it’s never to spend time with family or relax. And then you hear people constantly bitching and whining about having to visit the in-laws, the debt that they accrue due to having to shop for everyone and their brother. Not to mention that people lose their damn minds. Last week I saw a fist fight at the grocery over the last box of Eggo Waffles.’
‘And?’
‘And? And it sucks. It’s all a smoke and mirrors game of perceived obligations. And they didn’t… I mean…’
Heero looked back to his computer for a moment, a sharp and precise click of keys following before he stood up and took a moment to stretch before walking over and perching on the corner of the desk I had been occupying. Reaching out he motioned for my hand and I complied, lacing our fingers together.
‘They didn’t fight in a war.’
‘No... Maybe if they had they would be a little more grateful for those overbearing grandparents and overcooked Christmas turkeys.’
Though I scoffed Heero simply chuckled and lifted my hand, placing a kiss across my knuckles. ‘Maybe. But as we covered, true obligations are very different from perceived ones. And you are right, for what they are to the world, holidays are a bit of a dumpster fire.’
He stood then, pulling me up with him and catching me in an embrace with one arm loose around my waist and the other caressing my check, thumb running over my lips. I grinned and playfully nipped at the digit and started to speak when he leaned close, placing his lips beside my ear.
‘You are my world, Duo,’ he whispered with such intense sincerity that I felt my face flush and my lips flutter from playful grin to true smile, the kind that no matter what you do you can’t force it back down. ‘Our traditions are our own. Let the rest of the world have their commercialism, perceived obligations and overbearing grandparents. So long as we continue to create our own holiday memories that is jolly enough for me, and that is something that I can promise you.’
I laughed, nodded, sniffled, smiled, all in the same span of seconds it took for him to pull back and stare at me with that gaze that said so much more than words ever could. A look that I had had to learn to read and understand over a long number of years and through a great many trials. I felt the smile on my face widen and I clasped his face with my hands, pulling him in and kissing him, the damn tease, and it was always the most thrilling feeling to feel my own smile returned to me in the middle of our kiss.
Maybe Christmas wasn’t the jolliest time of year for a lot of people. But maybe that was only because they hadn’t quite found the true meaning of it yet.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-17 04:16 am (UTC)And here's hoping that at least some of us find the true meaning of Christmas at some point!