Here is the beginning of my holiday read I wanted to post. Since it took me a little longer than I wanted to finish, I decided instead of doing it on Smashwords to just post on my blog. By the way, this is the model for my hot Santa, model Francis or Francesco Cura. He's quite popular actually and has been on many covers. A lot of them this holiday.
Hope you like it. Here is part 1
Oh the holiday! Joy, joy, joy!
It would be the first Christmas I’d be spending alone since me and Harold broke up. Jesus! The man really wasn’t comfortable being in a gay relationship after being stared at and taunted by so called friends; scared him so badly he decided to date a female again.
Sure, I get it. That would be enough to drive someone back into the closet but damn, to totally do a one eighty? Nah, not me. I’m a bonnified man-lover. I’ll never go that far. Still, I understood how that could upset someone right away. I recall when I first told all my friends in high school that I liked men a little more than women. They shunned me immediately, called me names, some a little more vile than others but I walked away from all of them and said go fuck yourselves. Not to mention, I was a pretty big kid so I knew no one dared to mess with me.
Besides that I got courage from my parents. When I told them at age fifteen they we’re very supportive and told me they’d love me no matter what, especially my dad who shocked me when he hugged me tight. He told me everything would be okay and cried heavy tears. My mom stroked my head afterwards. I really didn’t expect that reaction from them. Good thing though because I never would’ve made it through high school if they didn’t. If only cancer hadn’t struck and took mom away from me first. Sadly, Dad couldn’t handle losing her and died himself just six months later. I was only eighteen when I lost both of them and except for Harold being my temporary live in boyfriend I’d been alone ever since.
Once Harold left, I hadn’t had a chance to really date. I don’t consider quick screws at the Manhaus as official meetings, only what they are. Quick humps to satisfy the cravings. Purposely, I’d been working long hours, picking up extra shifts for employees that didn’t make it in. I only did it to distract me so I wouldn’t think about being lonely. Now however, here it is, Christmas Eve and even though I begged my boss to allow me to stay and close, she threatened to fire me if I didn’t go home. Unreal. She knows I don’t have anyone to come home to and that both my parents are gone. Why did she insist on me leaving? She could’ve used my help.
“Some holiday,” I muttered, and leaned against the door. I blew raspberries and put the packages I bought myself and Buster down on the side. He ran up to me and stood on his hind legs. “Yep just you and me Buster! We’ll make the best of it I suppose.” Although I loved my dog, that just wasn’t very appealing. Oh well, here I am in my North side apartment, dreading being at home alone.
I kneeled down and patted his head before making my way through my place. While I slipped my overcoat off my shoulders, I took a look at my freshly cut pine tree by the window, draped in ornaments of mostly red and white with lights in the same hue. The red tinsel hung nicely from every branch and a few cards were scattered throughout.
Despite being on my own, I decided to decorate anyway because I wouldn’t allow loneliness to ruin my Christmas. I still had much to be thankful for and I kept my Christmas spirit.
Under the tree sat gifts I’d been sent from both sides of my family. Even though I’d lost my parents, they still mailed me things which I guess was nice. Still, none of them wanted me to come by and celebrate Christmas at their houses. They couldn’t accept Mary and Bill’s gay son, Jared into the family even though the two of them were deceased. It’s okay because in truth, I wasn’t very fond of either one of their sisters or brothers anyway.
The small boxes were nicely wrapped in different colors. As in years past, I’m sure a lot of them were, gift cards or sweaters, gloves, and hats. It’s cool though since I could always use any of it. Besides, I’d take receiving presents over visiting them and being made uncomfortable any day. I’d rather have the bible verses on the gift tags instead of the verbal barrage of insults in person.
Why couldn’t these people be like my parents? I’ve longed thought that maybe my folks were adopted or from another planet because of the differences of how they acted from their siblings. Thank God I was born from them and not from anyone else.
Taking a couple more steps, I sighed and turned my attention to the small statue on my mantel sitting in the middle of pictures of my family. It was one of the many things I had left from my Mom; her small Santa Claus that she loved almost as much as my dad. The figure dressed in a red Santa suit. His beety eyes looked to be a light shade of blue. White hair covered his chin and a mop of it under his crimson red hat. Really cute and pudgy just as Santa should be portrayed. I could never figure out what she loved so much about the tiny thing. She had others but she claimed this one was more special than all of them. Too bad I’d never know why.
More to come tomorrow